^7^V^( 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


us 

mm 

u  114 


|22 


118 


■  40 


2.0 


im 


1 1.25  III  U    ,,.6 

-^ 6"     

► 

Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


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^ 


<> 


o^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STRHT 

WnSTER.N.Y.  M5M 

(716)  •72-4S03 


'^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVl/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  IMicroraproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraprodiictions  historiquas 


C^ 


^■■im"" 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notas  tachniquas  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturas  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographlcally  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


□ 


□ 


D 
S 


D 


n 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommag^a 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  peliicul6e 


□    Cover  title  missing/ 
Le 


titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  an  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Ralii  avac  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouttes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissant  dans  la  texte, 
mais.  lorsqua  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmias. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  4t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sent  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographiqua.  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  una 
modification  dans  la  mithoda  normaia  de  filmaga 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


E 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  rastaur6as  et/ou  pellicul^es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  ddcolordes.  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachdes 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualiti  in6gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  matarii 
Comprend  du  mat6rial  suppldmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponibie 


r~~|  Pages  damaged/ 

I      I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

ryi  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

□  Pages  detached/ 
Pages 

ry]  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I      I  Only  edition  available/ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partieliement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuiliet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film6es  A  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

! 

1 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

^.*l!S»- 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exempiaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grice  A  la 
ginirositt  de: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  Impression. 


Les  images  suiwantes  ont  4t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exempiaire  fiim6.  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimte  sont  filmAs  en  commen9ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comports  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  au.es  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmds  en  commen^ant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iilustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  "COIVI- 
TINUED"),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ►  signifie  "A  SUiVRE".  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmfo  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  f  ilm6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup^rieur  g<3uche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

S 

6 

TRYING    HIS    LUCK. 


.?'Vfei,h;.V' 


*nj* 


:  i;  s 


THK 


£D  STATEB 


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■fiCCS. 


•m  AwriioK.  *  • 


^M" 


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T»riNC    HIS    IVtiK, 


m 


ADVENTURES 


INTHB 


WILDS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES 


Attn 


\tih\  %mtmm  '^ts'skm. 


BY 


CHARLES    LANMAN, 

AUTHOR  OF  "BdBATri  FOH  SUMMER  HOURM,"  "PRIVATE  LIFE  OF  DA8IEL  WEBSTER,"  ETU.,  ETC. 


IIiLUBTBATED  BT  THB  AUTHOB  AND  OSOAB  BBBSAV. 


■TTIthont  regUMrlog  tbex  tbingi  bj  tbe  pen  they  will  ilide  away  anprofltably."— Owen  Felltium, 


WITH  AN  APPENDIX  BY  LIEUT.  CAMPBELL  HARDY. 


IN   TWO   VOLUMES. 


VOL.  L 


PHILADELPHIA: 
JOHN  W.  MOORE,  No.  195  CHESTNUT  STREET. 

•  1856. 


Euterod  according  to  act  of  CongrosH,  In  tBe  year  1836,  by 
JOHN  W.  MOOUE, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  DiHtrlct  Court  of  the  United  States'  for  the  Eastern  District  of 

Pounsylvauia. 


n.  B.  ASHMEAD,  BOOK  AND  JOB  PRINTER, 

0E0R(1E  riTBBET  ABOVE  ELEVENTH. 


PREFACE. 


This  work  is  composed  of  materials  which  I  have  gathered  within 
the  last  ten  years,  while  performing  occasional  Tours  into  almost  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  United  States,  and  the  neighboring  British 
Provinces.  It  comprehends  ample  descrip'Jons  of  the  Valleys  of  the 
Mississippi  and  St.  Lawrence  rivers,  with  the  Basin  of  the  Great 
Lakes,  the  entire  Mountain-Land  overlooking  our  Atlantic  seaboard, 
and  the  Alluvial  Region  bordering  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  It  is 
indeed  a  kind  of  Cyclopedia  of  American  Scenery  and  Personal  Ad- 
venture, and  of  Traveling  Incidents,  calculated  to  exhibit  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  our  people,  and  interest  the  lovers  of  Natural 
Histoiy  and  the  various'  Arts  of  Sporting. 

The  several  parts  of  the  work,  as  they  at  present  appear,  wer(  origi- 
nally published  in  the  journals  and  periodicals  of  the  day,  and  sub- 
sequently in  as  many  small  volumes,  which  were  all  very  kindly 
received  by  the  public,  both  in  this  country  and  England.  My  chief 
channel  of  communication,  however,  as  a  Tourist,  has  been  the 
Natiokal  Intdllijcnccr ;  but  I  have  also  written  occasionally  for  the 
New  Yorh  Observer,  the  New  York  Express,  the  Southern  Literary 
Messenger,  and  Bentley's  Magazine.  Among  those  who  have  been 
my  friends,  and  given  me  advice,  and  whose  kindly  offices  I  have 
acknowledged  in  brief  Dedicatory  Epistleg,  now  thrown  aside,  are 
Messrs.  Gales  &  Seaton,  Hon.  George  P.  Marsh,  Professor  Joseph 
Henry,   William   C.  Bryant,   Esq.,  Hon.   John  F.  Crampton,  and 


iv 


PREFACE. 


Wnsliington  Irving,  Esq.  I  mention  tlicso  eovcrnl  names  with  frido 
and  thankfulness,  and  can  only  hope  that  the  unpretending  literary 
career  of  their  sonietimo  pupil,  will  reflect  no  discredit  upon  their 
tcachihj^H.  With  regard  to  Mr.  Irvin>r,  I  would  say  that  his  delightful 
writings  were  the  first  to  animate  me  with  a  natural,  though  in  my 
0080  a  daring  spirit  of  emulation,  but  ns  I  have,  in  the  following 
letters,  his  sanction  for  my  folly,  I  am  ((uito  contented.  The  first 
had  reference  to  my  traveling  essays,  os  they  wcro»appearing  at  inter- 
vals, and  the  second  was  in  answer  to  a  petition  for  advice  on  the  pro- 
priety of  the  present  publication. 


Sunny  Side. 

My  Dear  Sir  : — I  would  not  reply  to  your  very  obliging  letter  of 
September  10th,  until  I  had  time  to  read  the  volumes  which  accom- 
panied it.  This,  from  the  pressure  of  various  engagements,  I  have 
but  just  been  able  to  do;  and  I  now  return  you  thanks  for  the 
delightful  entertainment  which  your  summer  rambles  have  afforded 
me.  I  do  not  sec  that  I  have  any  literary  advice  to  give  you, 
excepting  to  keep  on  as  you  have  begun.  You  seem  to  have  the 
happy,  enjoyable  humor  of  old  Izaak  Walton.  I  anticipate  great 
success,  therefore,  in  your  Essays  on  our  American  Fishes,  and  on 
Anjiling,  which  I  trust  will  give  us  still  further  scenes  and  adven- 
tures on  our  great  internal  waters,  depicted  with  the  freshness  and 
graphic  skill  of  your  present  volumes.  lu  fact,  the  adventurous  life 
of  the  angler,  amidst  our  wild  scenery,  on  our  vast  lakes  and  rivers, 
must  furnish  a  striking  contrast  to  the  quiet  loltcrings  of  the  English 
angler  along  the  Trent  or  Dove;  with  country  milk-maids  to  sing 
madrigals  to  him,  and  a  snug,  decent  country  inn  at  night,  where  he 
may  sleep  in  sheets  that  have  been  laid  in  lavender. 

With  best  wishes  for  your  success,  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 
Very  truly,  your  obliged 

WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


'Sir 


PREFACE.  y 

Sunny  S;de. 

My  Dear  Sir : — I  am  glad-  to  learn  that  you  intend  to  publish 
your  narrative  and  descriptive  writings  in  a  collected  form.  I  have 
read  parta  of  them  as  they  were  published  ecparatoly,  and  the  great 
pleasure  derived  from  the  perusal  makes  mo  desirous  of  having  the 
whole  in  my  possession.  They  carry  us  into  the  fastnesses  of  our 
mountains,  the  depths  of  our  forests,  the  watery  wilderness  of  our 
lakes  and  rivers,  giving  us  pictures  of  savage  life  and  savngo  tribes, 
Indian  legends,  fishing  and  hunting  anecdotes,  the  adventures  of 
trappers  and  backwoodsmen;  our  whole  arcanum,  in  short,  of  indi- 
genous poetry  and  romance :  to  use  a  favorite  phrase  of  the  old  dis- 
coverers, "  they  lay  open  the  secrets  of  the  country  to  us." 

I  cannot  but  believe  your  work  will  be  well  received,  and  meet 
with  the  wide  circulation  which  it  assuredly  merits. 

With  best  wishes  for  your  success,  I  remain,  my  dear  sir. 

Yours,  very  truly, 

WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


But  another  of  the  "  Literary  Fathers,"  who  has  honored  me  with 
his  friendly  advice,  is  the  Hon.  Edward  Everett,  and,  as  I  have  his 
permission  for  doing  so,  I  trust  my  readers  will  excuse  me  for  print- 
ing the  following  lettei-  r 


Washington,  February  19th,  1853. 

Dear  Sir : — I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  copy  of  the  English 
edition  of  your  life  of  Mr.  Webster,  kindly  ^nt  with  your  note  of 
yesterday. 

I  fully  concur  with  the  opinions  expressed  by  Mr.  Irving,  on  the 
subject  of  a  collective  edition  of  your  narrative  aid  descriptive  writ- 
ings. Having,  during  nearly  all  the  time  since  they  began  to  appear, 
been  engaged  in  official  duties,  which  have  left  me  but  little  time  for 


VI 


PREFACE. 


general  rcuilin^,  T  am  not  fauiiliur  with  all  of  them;  bnt  from  what  I 
huvo  read  of  tlicni,  and  from  Mr.  Trving'8  oniphutio  and  discriminat- 
ing commendation,  I  am  confident  tho  scries  would  bo  welcomed  by  u 
largo  clasH  of  readers. 

You  have  explored  nooks  in  our  scenery  seldom  visited ;  and 
described  forms  of  life  and  manners  of  which  the  greater  pprliou  of 
our  buHy  population  are  entirely  ignorant.  Topics  of  this  kind, 
thouf^h  briefly  sketelied,  are,  or  at  least  ought  to  bo,  in  this  country, 
of  fur  greater  interest  than  tho  attempted  descriptions  of  fashionable 
life  in  Europe,  which  form  the  staple  of  those  trashy  works  of  fiction 
constantly  poured  in  upon  us  from  abroad. 

Wishing  you  much  success  in  your  proposed  undertaking,  I  remain, 

Very  truly  yours, 

EDWARD  EVEllETT. 


As  to  tho  concluding  division  of  this  work,  it  is  proper  that  I 
should  make  an  explanatory  remark.  It  was  intended  as  a  kind  of 
Sequel  to  the  preceding  Sketches,  and  consists  of  after  records,  tho 
majority  of  which  might  have  been  printed  in  tho  shape  of  letters, 
when  tho  notes  for  them  were  first  collected,  but  were  published  in 
the  National  IntcUt'i/cnccr  as  Editorial  Essays,  whereby  the  frequent 
use  of  the  pronoun  we  is  accounted  for.  The  essays  on  tho  Game  Fish 
of  tho  country  were  written  at  various  periods  of  my  angling  expe- 
rience, so  that  the  reader  will  occasionally  find  in  tho  body  of  the 
work  more  full  accounts  of  the  fishing  streams  and  their  scenery  than 
in  the  sequel ;  while  those  who  feel  an  interest  in  tho  Legendary  Lore 
of  the  Aborigines,  are  referred  to  the  additional  collection  at  tho  end 
of  the  work.  I  also  deem  it  proper  to  mention  in  this  place,  that 
tho  first  part  %vas  written  in  1846,  tho  second  in  1847,  the  third  in 
1848,  the  fourth  in  1851,  the  fifth  in  1853,  the  sixth  in  1863  and 
1854,  and  the  seventh  from  184G  to  1850. 

And  now,  on  glancing  over  the  pages  of  my  manuscript,  I  am  re- 


PRBFAOB. 


▼u 


niindod  of  tho  many  kind  and  aj^rooublo  people,  by  whom  I  have  bcvn 
outcrtainod  in  my  manifold  journeys,  or  with  whom  I  have  sported  in 
tho  lonely  wildcrnosa,  and  to  all  of  thorn  would  I  send  n  wiuh  for  their 
prosperity  und  happiness.  From  thoui,  and  from  Nature,  have  I 
gathered  tho  staple  of  thiii  work,  and  the  sceret  of  my  huccosh  thus 
far,  I  fancy  to  be,  that  I  have  always  written  from  impulse,  with  an 
honest  intention,  and  in  the  hope  of  securing  the  upprobatiun  of  those 
only  whoso  hearts  beat  in  sympathy  with  my  own. 

One  word  more.     Should  some  of  tho  earlier  passages  of  my  present 

* 

publieatioQ  appear,  to  the  matured  reader,  to  bo  somewhat  too  fanciful 
in  idea  or  expression,  ho  will  please  remember  that  it  is  not  manly 
always  to  oondomu  the  follies  of  youth ; — and  I  must  add  the  con< 
fession,  that  I  would  rather  bo  wrong  with  tho  warm-hearted  lover  of 
nature,  than  to  be  right  with  the  cold-blooded  critic. 


Gmryctown,  D,  C,  Summer  of  18D0. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.   I. 


|l  Bmmtx  k  %  iniltaess: 


VME. 

SAINT  LOUIS, 1 

THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER,      ......  7 

LEGEND  OF  THE  ILLINOIS, 12 

NAUVOO, 15 

PRAIRIE  DU  OHIEN,     .......  19 

THE  LEAD  REGION,      -           .           -           -           -           -           -  25 

THE  ALPINE  REGION, 29 

RED  WIN<J  VILLAGE, 34 

THE  FALLS  OF  SAINT  ANTHONY,              .           .           .   '       -  38 

A  RIDE  ON  HORSEBACK, 45 

CROW  WIlfG, 48 

THE  INDIAN  TRADER,            ....'..  55 

SPIRIT  LAKE, 59 

LAKE  WINNIPEG, 64 

RED  CEDAR  LAKE, 69 

ELK  LAKE, 75 

LEECH  LAKE, 79 

FISH  OF  THE  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI,           ....  84 

SANDY  LAKE, 90 

THE  SAINT  LOUIS  RIVER,     ......  94 

LAKE  SUPERIOR, -           -  100 


KfT 


CONTENTS. 

THE  VOYAGECR, 110 

•  THE  COPPER  REGION, 119 

SAULT  SAINT  M^IE, 123 

MACKINAW, 128 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN, 182 


Jl  %mx  to  i\t  %ikx  Sapenag: 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS, 


A  SPRING  DAY, 

THE  CORN  PLANTING  BEE, 

LAKE  HORICON, 


THE  SCAROON  COUNTRY, 


THE  ADIRONDAC  MOUNTAINS, 
THE  ADIRONDAC  HUNTER, 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN, 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS, 


MONTREAL, 


QUEBEC, 

DOWN  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE, 

THE  SAGUENAY  RIVER, 

SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES, 

SEAL  HUNTING  ON  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE, 

THE  ESQUIMAUX  INDIANS  OF  LABRADOR, 

THE  HABIT  AN  8  OF  CANADA, 

LAKE  TIMISCOUTA,     ... 

THE  ACADIAN8,  ... 

DOWN  THE  MADAWASKA,     - 

THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK, 

THE  RIVER  ST.  JOHN, 

THE  PENOBSCOT  RIVER, 

MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVER, 


171 

188 
196 
200 
211 
21Y 
229 
238 
244 
255 
259 
?.G5 
270 
278 
288 
293 
297 
301 
305 
309 
312 
325 
329 
333 


CONTENTS. 

fetters  ftmx  t\t  glleg^ang  i;ountiuns: 


DAHLONEGA,       ... 
TRIP  TO  TRACK  ROCK, 
VALLEY  OF  NACOOCHEE,      - 
CASCADE  OP  TUCCOAH, 
THE  FALLS  OF  TALLULAII, 
THE  HUNTER  OF  TALLULAH, 
TRAIL  MOUNTAIN, 
DOWN  THE  OWASSA, 
ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS,     - 
THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE,      - 
SMOKY  MOUNTAIN,     - 
THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS, 


CHEROKEE  CUSTOMS 


CHEROKEE  CHARACTERS,      - 
HICKORY  NUT  GAP,     - 
THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER, 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN, 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNTRY,     - 

THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THEIR  PEOPLE, 

THE  NAMELESS  VALLEY,      - 

THE  VALLEY  OF  VIRGINIA, 

* 
MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES, 


XI 


343 
851 
855 
860 

364 
369 
874 
378 
384 
392 
400 
407 
413 
417 
425 
481 
438 
445 
455 
460 
467 
472 


fjie  3mxm  ai  the  fatflntiin 

ROMNEY,   .           -          -          - 477 

•         MOORFIELD, 484 

THE  HERMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEUHANIES,          -          -  4^9 

ACROSS  THE  ALLEGUANIES, 405 

THE  CIIeAT  RIVER  COUNTRY,        -           -          -           -  ♦     .  500 

BUFFALO  GLADE, 505 

THR  CUMBERLAND  REGION,            -     .     -          -          -          -  510 


i 


ILLUSTRATIONS  VOL.  I. 


TRYING  HIS  LUCK, Frontispiece. 

LAKE  PEPIN, face  page    30 

BLUFFS  ON  LAKE  SUPERIOR, "       "     104 

THE  VOYAGEUR'S  CAMP, "       "     111 

DUCK  SHOOTING  IN  MICIIJGAN, ^'       •'     144 

THE  DEAD  MOOSE,  -        -        / "      •■     234 


SUMMER  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


li 


1 


d 


It  ■ 

11 

i 

i 

J 

M 

ADVENTURES  IN  THE  WILDS 


OP  THB 


Into  SWts  u)i  '§xi\h\  %mtxxm  |ro()inm. 


SAINT   LOUIS. 


The  River  Queen,  as  Saint  Louis  is  sometimes  called,  may 
be  looked  upon  as  the  threshhold  leading  to  the  wild  and  roman- 
tic  region  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  which  is  the  Mecca  of  my 
present  pilgrimages.*  It  was  founded  in  the  year  seventeen 
hundred  and  sixty-four,  by  two  Frenchmen,  named  Lliclade 
and  Chouteau,  who  were  accompanied  by  about  thirty  Creoles. 
The  first  steamer  which  landed  on  this  spot  came  from  New 
Orleans  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  nineteen ;  but  the 
number  now  belonging  here  is  rated  at  threo  hundred,  many  of 
which  are  unsurpassed  in  speed  and  splendor  of  accommoda- 
tions. The  population  of  this  city  amounts  to  forty  thousand 
souls.  It  is  elevated  some  eighty  feet  above  the  low-water 
mark  of  the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  river  presents  a  hand- 
some appearance.  The  old  part  of  *he  town  is  inhabited  by  a 
French  population,  and  is  in  a  dilapidated  condition ;  but  the 
more  modern  portion  is  distinguished  for  its  handsome  streets, 
and  tastefully  built  mansions  and  public  buildings.  It  might 
be  compared  indeed,  to  a  man  with  a  French  heart  and  Yankee 
limbs ;  and  it  is  a  singular  circumstance  that  its  geographical 
position  is  within  three  hundred  miles  of  the  centre  of  North 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


America.  Fronting  the  leveo  or  landing-place  are  several 
blocks  of  stone  stores,  which  give  an  idea  of  the  extensive  busi- 
ness transacted  here.  On  one  occasion  I  saw  this  wharfitig 
ground  so  completely  crowded  with  merchandise  of  every  pos- 
sible variety,  that  travelers  were  compelled  to  walk  from  the 
steamboats  to  the  hotels.  This  city  is  the  home  market  for  all 
the  natural  productions  of  a  wilderness  country  extending  in 
different  directions  for  thousands  of  miles,  and  watered  by  sev- 
eral of  the  largest  rivers  in  the  world.  Its  growth,  however, 
has  been  somewhat  retarded  by  the  peculiar  character  of  its 
original  inhabitants.  The  acknowledged  wealth  of  many  of  its 
leading  men  can  only  bo  equalled  by  their  illiberality  and  want 
of  enterprise.  But  time  is  committing  sad  ravages  among 
these  ancient  citizens,  for  they  are,  from  age  and  infirmities, 
almost  daily  dropping  into  the  place  of  graves.  Under  tho 
benign  influence  of  true  American  enterprise,  this  city  is 
rapidly  becoming  distinguished  for  its  New  England  character, 
in  spite  of  the  retarding  cause  alluded  to  above,  and  it  pos- 
sesses, to  an  uncommon  degree,  all  tho  worthy  ({ualities  which 
should  belong  to  an  enlightened  and  eminently  proHpcrous  city. 
There  is  one  unique  feature  connected  with  the  lliver  Queen, 
which  gives  it,  at  times,  a  most  romantic  appearance.  It  is  tho 
point  whence  must  start  all  distant  expeditions  to  tho  North 
and  West,  and  where  the  treasures  of  the  wilderness  arc  pre- 
pared for  re-shipment  to  the  more  distant  markets  of  our  own 
and  foreign  countries.  Here,  during  the  spring  and  summer 
months  may  often  be  seen  caravans  about  to  depart  for  Cali- 
fornia, Santa  Fe,  tho  Rocky  Mountains,  and  Oregon,  while  the 
sprightly  step  and  sparkling  eye  will  speak  to  you  of  the  hopes 
and  anticipations  which  animate  the  various  adventurers.  At 
one  time,  perhaps,  may  be  seen  a  company  of  toil-worn  trap- 
pers entering  the  city,  after  tho  absence  of  months,  far  away 
on  the  head  waters  of  the  Mississippi  or  Missouri  rivers,  where 
they  have  hunted  the  beaver,  the  buffalo,  the  otter,  the  bear, 
and  the  deer ;  and  as  they  steal  away  to  their  several  homes, 
from  the  door  of  the  Fur  Company,  where  they  have  just  ren- 
dered their  account,  it  does  tho  heart  good  to  ponder  on  the 
joys  which  will  be  brought  into  existence  by  the  happy  return. 


I 


SAINT  LOUIB. 


And  tho  Indiana,  from  different  nations,  who  often  virtit  this 
place,  also  add  greatly  to  the  picturesque  appearance  of  its 
streets.  Summoned  by  curiosity,  they  congregate  hero  in  large 
numbers,  and  while  their  gaudy  trappings  and  painted  faces 
remind  us  of  tho  strange  wild  life  they  lead,  their  prowling 
propensities  and  downcast  eyes  inform  us  of  the  melancholy 
fact,  that  they  are  tho  victims  of  a  most  heartless,  though  law- 
ful oppression.  And  this  remark,  by  the  way,  reminds  mo  of 
a  living  picture  which  I  lately  witnessed,  and  will  briefly  de- 
scribe. It  was  the  sunset  hour,  and  I  was  returning  from  a 
ride  on  tho  eastern  bank  of  tho  great  river.  The  western  sky 
was  flooded  with  a  saffron  glow,  in  the  midst  of  which  floated 
unnumbered  cloud-islands,  tinged  with  deepest  gold.  Under- 
neath lay  the  beautiful  city,  with  its  church-spires  uppointing 
to  the  Christian's  home ;  then  passed  tho  rushing  tide  of  the 
Mississippi,  ploughed  by  many  a  keel ;  and  in  the  foreground 
was  a  woody  bluff,  on  tho  brow  of  which  sat  a  solitary  Indian, 
humming  a  strangely  solemn  song,  as  his  white  locks  and  eagle 
plumes  waved  in  the  evening  breeze.  I  asked  no  question  of 
tho  "borrowing  dreamer,  but  pursued  my  way,  pondering  on  the 
cruel  destiny  which  has  power  to  make  man  a  stranger  and  an 
exile,  on  tho  very  soil  from  which  he  sprang,  and  where  repose 
the  ashes  of  his  forgotten  kindred. 

Lover  as  I  am  of  genuine  art,  it  will  not  do  for  mo  to  leave 
this  city,  the  sturdy  child  of  a  new  and  great  empire,  without 
alluding  to  its  treasures  in  this*  particular.  The  bright  parti- 
cular star,  who  uses  tho  pencil  here,  is  Charles  Dcas.  He  is  a 
^oung  man  who  left  New  York  about  eight  years  ago,  for  the 
purpose  of  studying  his  art  in  tho  wilds  west  of  tho  Mississippi. 
He  makes  this  city  his  head-quarters,  but  annually  spends  a 
few  months  among  the  Indian  tribes,  familiarizing  himself  with 
their  manners  and  customs,  and  he  is  honorably  identifying 
himself  with  the  history  and  scenery  of  a  most  interesting  por- 
tion of  the  continent.  The  great  charm  of  his  productions  is 
found  in  tho  strongly  marked  national  character  which  they 
bear.  His  collection  of  sketches  is  already  very  valuable. 
The  following  are  a  few  of  the  pictures  which  I  saw  in  his 
studio,  which  pleased  me  exceedingly.     One,  called  tho  Indian 


*itl. 


4  SAIMT  LOUIS.  , 

Guide,  represents  an  ngcd  Indian  riding  in  the  evening  twi- 
liglit  on  a  piebald  horse,  apparently  musing  upon  the  times  of 
old.  The  sentiment  of  such  a  painting  is  not  to  bo  dcHcribcd, 
and  can  only  bo  felt  by  the  beholder  who  has  a  passion  for  the 
wilderness.  Another,  Long  Jake,  is  the  literal  portrait  of  a 
celebrated  character  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  IIo  looks  like 
an  untamed  hawk,  figures  in  a  flaming  red  shirt,  and  is  mounted 
on  a  black  stallion.  He  is  supposed  to  be  on  the  ridge  of  n 
hill,  and  as  the  sky  is  blue,  the  figure  stands  out  in  tlio  boldest 
relief.  Artistically  speaking,  this  is  a  most  daring  effort  of  the 
pencil,  but  the  artist  has  decidedly  triumphed.  In  a  picture 
called  Setting  out  for  the  Mountains,  Mr.  Deas  has  represented 
a  species  of  American  Cockney,  who  has  made  up  his  mind  to 
visit  tho  Rocky  Mountains.  lie  is  mounted  on  a  bob-tailed, 
saucy-looking  pony,  and  completely  loaded  down  with  cloth- 
ing, pistols,  guns,  and  ammunition.  IIo  is  accompanied  by  a 
few  covered  wagons,  a  jolly  servant  to  be  his  right-hand  man, 
and  two  dogs,  which  arc  frolicking  on  the  prairie  ahead,  and 
while  the  man  directs  the  attention  of  his  master  to  some  game, 
the  latter  shrugs  his  feeble  shoulders,  seems  to  think  tliis  n?ode 
of  traveling  exceedingly  fatiguing,  and  personifies  the  latter 
end  of  a  misspent  life.  You  imagine  that  a  few  montlis  have 
elapsed,  and,  turning  to  another  picture,  you  behold  our  hero 
returning  from  tho  mountains.  Exposure  and  hardships  have 
transformed  him  into  a  superb  looking  fellow,  and  he  is  now 
full  of  life  and  buoyancy,  and  riding  with  the  most  perfect  ele- 
gance and  ease  a  famous  steed  of  tho  prairies.  The  wagons, 
servant  and  dogs,  are  now  in  the  rear  of  car  adventurer,  who* 
comically  dressed  with  nothing  but  a  cap,  a  calico  shirt,  and 
pair  of  buckskin  pantaloons,  is  dashing  ahead,  fearless  of  every 
danger  that  may  happen  to  cross  his  path.  These  pictures 
completely  epitomize  a  personal  revolution  which  is  constantly 
taking,  place  on  the  frontiers.  One  of  our  artist's  more  ambi- 
tious productions,  represents  the  daring  feat  of  Captain  Walker, 
during  a  recent  memorable  battle  in  Mexico.  Tho  story  is 
that  the  captain,  who  happened  to  be  alone  on  a  plain,  had  his 
horse  killed  from  under  him,  and  was  himself  wounded  in  the 
leg.     Supposing,  as  was  the  case,  that  the  Mexican  savage 


■1  m 


■*■ 


SAINT  LOUIS.  0 

would  approach  to  take  his  »culp,  he  feigned  himself  tkiid,  ns 
ho  lay  upon  his  horuc,  and  as  his  enemy  wa»  ahout  to  butcher 
him,  ho  fired  and  killed  tho  rnacal  on  the  spot,  and  seizing  the 
reins  of  his  enemy's  horse,  he  mounted  him  and  rode  into  his 
own  enmp.  In  tho  picture,  Walker  is  in  the  act  of  firing. 
Hut  the  painting  upon  which  Mr.  Dcas's  fame  will  probably 
rest,  contains  a  large  number  of  figures,  and  represents  the 
heroism  of  Captain  George  Clarke,  who,  when  about  to  be  mur- 
dered by  a  council  of  Indians  at  North  Bend,  threw  the  war- 
belt  in  tho  midst  of  tho  savages,  Avith  a  defying  shout,  and 
overwhelmed  them  with  astonishment,  thereby  saving  his  own 
life  and  those  of  his  companions.  This  picture  is  true  to  his- 
tory in  every  particular,  and  full  of  expression. 

But  enough  about  these  productions  of  art.  I  am  bound  to 
the  fountain  head  of  tho  Mississippi,  and  feel  impatient  to  bo 
with  nature  in  tho  wilderness.  Before  concluding  this  chapter, 
however,  I  will  describe  a  characteristic  incident  which  I  met 
with  in  Saint  Louis. 

I  had  been  taking  a  lonely  walk  along  tho  banks  of  the  Mis- 
slssijipi,  and,  in  fancy,  royelling  amid  the  charms  of  this  groat 
western  world,  as  it  existed  centuries  ago.  My  mind  was  in  a 
dreamy  mood,  and  as  I  re-entered  the  city  the  hum  of  business 
fell  like  discord  upon  my  car.  It  was  the  hour  of  twilight  and 
the  last  day  of  tho  week,  and  the  citizens  whom  I  saw  seemed 
anxious  to  bring  their  labors  to  a  close  that  they  might  be 
ready  for  the  Sabbath. 

Wl'.ilo  sauntering  leisurely  through  a  retired  street,  I  was 
startled  by  the  sound  of  a  deep-toned  bell,  and,  on  lifting  my 
oycs,  I  found  that  I  stood  bcf»ro  the  Catholic  cathedral.  I 
noticoil  a  dim  light  through  one  of  the  windows,  and  as  the 
gates  were  open,  and  I  remembered  it  was  the  vesper  hour,  I 
entered  the  church.  The  inner  door  noiselessly  swung  to,  and 
I  f'und  in;  self  alone,  the  spectator  of  a  most  impressive  scene. 
A  single  lump,  hanging  before  the  altar,  threw  out  a  feeble 
li^^'ht,  and  so  ''<  'AAo  Avas  it,  that  a  solemn  gloom  brooded 
throughout  the  t.raple.  While  a  dark  shadow  filled  the  aisles 
and  remote  cprnors,  t|^,r  apitals  of  the  massive  pillars  on  either 
side  were  lost  in  a  still  deeper  shade.     From  the  ceiling  hung 


pi 


6 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


!-^ 


;i:H" 


!■ 


Mil 


m 


many  a  gorgeous  chandelier,  ■which  were  now  content  to  be 
eclipsed  by  the  humble  solitary  lamp.  Scriptural  paintings 
and  pieces  of  statuary  were  on  every  side,  but  I  could  discern 
that  Christ  was  the  centre  of  attraction  in  all.  Over,  and 
around  the  altar  too,  were  many  works  of  art,  together  with  a 
multitudinous  array  of  sacred  symbols.  Just  in  front  of  these, 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  mystic  throne,  hung  the  lonely  lamp, 
which  seemed  to  be  endowed  with  a  thinking  principle,  as  its 
feeble  rays  shot  out  in  the  surrounding  darkness.  That  part 
of  the  cathedral  where  towered  the  stupendous  organ,  was  in 
deep  shadow,  but  I  knew  it  to  be  there  by  the  faint  glistening 
of  its  golden  pipes :  as  to  the  silence  of  the  place,  it  was  death- 
like and  holy.  I  chanced  to  heave  a  sigh,  and  that  very  sigh 
was  not  without  an  echo.  The  distant  hum  of  life,  alone  con- 
vinced me  that  I  was  in  a  world  of  trouble  and  strife. 

But  softly !  A  footstep  now  breaks  the  silence  !  A  priest 
in  a  ghost-like  robe,  is  passing  from  one  chancel  door  to 
another.  Another  footstep !  and  lo !  a  woman,  clothed  in 
black,  with  her  face  completely  hidden  in  a  veil,  passes  up  an 
aisle  and  falls  upon  her  knees  in  prayer.  She  has  come  here 
to  find  consolation  in  her  widowhood.  And  now,  slowly  tot- 
tering along,  comes  a  white-haired  man,  and  he,  too,  falls  into 
the  attitude  of  pralyer.  With  the  pleasures  of  this  world  he  is 
fully  satisfied,  and  his  thoughts  are  now  taken  up  with  that 
strange  pilgrimage,  whence  travellers  never  return,  and  upon 
which  he  fccly  he  must  soon  enter. 

Other  life-sick  mortals,  have  also  entered  the  sanctuary, 
offered  up  their  evening  prayer,  and  mingled  with  the  tide  of 
life  once  more.  But  again  thR  front  door  slowly  opens,  and  a 
little  negro  boy,  some  seven  years  of  age,  is  standing  by  my 
side.  What  business  has  hc^here, — for  surely  this  offspring  of 
a  slave,  and  a  slave  himself,  cannot  be  a  religious  devotee  ?  I 
take  back  that  thought.  I  have  wrongpd  the  child.  The  Spirit 
of  God, must  tabernacle  in  his  heart,  else  ho  would  not  approach 
the  altar  with  such  deep  reverence.  Behold  him,  like  little 
Samuel  of  old,  calling  upon  the  Invisible  in  pi'^ycr !  What  a 
picture !  Twilight  in  a  superb  cathedral  and  the  only  wor- 
shipper a  child  and  a  slave  ! 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. 


>'iK 


The  literal  meaning  of  vhe  Chippeway  word  MeseeseepCy 
accorditig  to  some  authorities,  is  Water  every  where — and  con- 
veys the  same  idea  which  has  been  translated  Father  of  Waters ; 
while  others  assert  that  the  Choctaws  called  it  Mlssah-Sippah, 
which  is  interpreted  old,  big,  and  strong.  When  we  remember 
the  immense  extent  of  the  valley  watered  by  this  stream  and 
its  tributaries,  the  latter  name  must  be  considered  singularly 
expressive. 

That  portion  of  the  river  known  as  the  Lower  Mississippi, 
extends  from  New  Orleans  to  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  a  dis- 
tance of  about  twelve  hundred  miles.  As  the  highAvay  for  a 
multitudinous  number  of  steam  vessels  of  every  size  and  cha- 
racter, it  is  of  incalculable  importa,ncc,  not  only  to  this  country 
but  to  the  world ;  but  with  regard  to  its  scenery,  it  affords  little  of 
an  iritcresting  character.  Excepting  a  few  rocky  bluffs  found 
hc]f)Vf  Saint  Louis,  both  shores  of  the  river  are  low,  level,  and 
covered  with  dense  forests  of  cotton-wood  and  cypress,  where 
the  panther  and  the  wolf  roam  in  native  freedom,  and  the  eagle 
swoops  upon  its  prey  undisturbed  by  the  presence  of  man.  The 
banks  arc  of  an  alluvial  character,  and  as  the  current  is  exceed- 
ingly rapid,  the  course  of  the  river  is  constantly  changing- 
You  might  travel  a  hundred  miles  without  finding  a  place  suffi- 
ciently secure  to  land  ;  and  the  water  is  always  so  very  muddy 
that  a  tumbler  full  will  always  yield  half  an  inch  of  the  virgin 
Boil.  The  surface  of  the  stream  is  never  placid,  but  for  ever 
turbulent  and  full  of  eddies  and  whirlpools,  as  if  its  channel 
were  c6mpo5ed  of  a  continued  succession  of  caverna.     Snags 


'  "I; 


ft 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVBB. 


and  sawyers  abound  throughout  its  whole  extent.  They  are 
taken  from  the  shore  by  the  rushing  tide  and  planted  in  the 
channel  quite  as  rapidly  as  the  snag-veasels  can  extricate  them 
from  their  dangerous  positions. 

The  Lower  Mississippi  is  probably  the  most  dangerous  an(J 
least  interesting  river  in  the  ivorld  to  navigate,  excepting  the 
still  more  frantic  Missouri,  which  the  aborignos  called  Pehita- 
noni,  or  ij;iuddy  water.  When  not  in  actual  danger,  you  are 
likely  to  be  so  Sir  removed  from  it,  high  and  diy  on  a  sand- 
bar, that  the  annoyance,  like  a  certain  period  in  our  national 
history,  has  a  tendency  to  try  men's  souls.  The  following  pic- 
ture of  %n  actual  scene  on  this  portion  of  the  great  river,  may 
be  looked  uponr  as  characteristie  of  the  whole.  On  your  right 
is  a  series  of  rocky  bluffs,  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of 
trees ',  before  you  aa  expanse  of  water  ten  miles  long  and  one 
or  two  wide;  on  your  left  an  array  of  sand-bars  and  islands, 
where  lie  imbedded  the  wrecks  of  some  fifty  steamboats,  and 
in  the  more  remote  distance  a  belt  of  thicklv  wooded  bottom 
land.  On  the  water,  passing  to  and  fro.  "vre  a  number  of 
steamers,  and  immediately  in  the  foreground  a  solitary  sawycF 
and  a  hull  of  a  sunken  steamboat.  This  is  the  spot  which  has- 
been  rightly  named  the  Grave  Yard,  for  hundreds  of  souls  at 
different  times  have  passed  from  thence  into  eternity.  When  I 
left  the  turbid  and  unruly  bosom  of  the  Lower  Mississippi,  I  felt 
towards  it  as  a  person  would  naturally  feel  towards  tth  old 
tyrant  who  had  vainly  striven  to  destroy  him  in  his  savage 
wrath.  I  should  remark  in  passing,  that  the  bottom  lands  of 
this  river  arc  not  wholly  without  inhabitants  ;  occasionally  a 
lonely  log  cabin  meets  the  eye,  which  is  the  only  home  of  a 
miserable  being  who  obtains  his  living  by  supplying  the 
steamers  with  wood.  Nailed  to  a  stump  before  one  of  these' 
squatter  residences,  which  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  small  clear- 
ing, I  lately  saw  a  board  with  the  following  inscription, — "  This 
farm  for  sale — price  $1,50."  Though  I  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing at  the  unintentional  wit  of  that  sentence,  it  told  me  a 
melancholy  tale  of  poverty,  intemperance,  and  sickness,  which 
are  too  often  identified  with  the  dangers  of  this  wilderness. 


m 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. 


9 


I  would  now  speak  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  and  I  only  regret 
that  I  cannot  strike  the  poet's  lyre,  and  give  to  this  "  parent  of 
perpetual  streams"  an  undying  hymn  of  praise.  The  moment 
that  you  pass  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  on  your  way  up  the 
Father  of  Waters,  you  seem  to  bo  entering  an  entirely  new 
world,  whose  every  feature  is  "  beautiful  exceedingly."  The 
shores  now  slope  r^'ih  their  green  verdure  to  the  very  margin 
of  the  water,  which  is  here  of  a  deep  green  color,  perfectly 
clear,  and  placid  as  the  slumber  of  a  child.  My  first  view  of 
this  spot  was  at  the  twilight  hour,  and  every  object  that  met 
my  gaze  wore  an  unwonted  loveliness.  Over  the  point 
where  the  sun  had  disappeared,  floated  a  cavalcade  of  golden 
clouds,  and  away  to  the  eastward  rolled  on,  along  her  clear, 
blue  pathway,  the  bright,  full  moon,  and  now  and  then  a  trem- 
bling star, — the  whole  completely  mirrored  in  the  bosom  of  the 
softly  flowing  but  ever  murmuring  stream.  On  my  right  lay  a 
somewhat  cultivated  shore  ;  on  my  left  a  flock  of  islands,  whose 
heavy  masses  of  foliage  rested  upon  the  water ;  and  in  the  dis- 
tance was  the  pleasant  and  picturesque  town  of  Alton,  with  its 
chur'^h  spires  speaking  of  hope  and  heaven.  No  living  crea- 
tures met  my  gaze,  save  a  Avild  duck  and  her  brood  gliding  into 
their  shadowy  home,  and  an  occasional  night-hawk  as  he  shot 
through  the  upper  air  after  his  living  food ;  and  no  sound  fell 
upon  my  ear,  but  the  jingling  of  a  distant  cow-bell  and  the 
splash  of  a  leaping  sturgeon. 

Another  picture  which  makes  me  remember  with  unalloyed 
pleasure  this  portion  of  the  Mississippi,  was  a  scene  that  I  wit- 
nessed early  in  the  morning.  The  sky  was  without  a  cloud, 
and  a  pleasant  sunshine  had  full  sway  among  the  hills.  On 
either  side  of  me  was  a  row  of  heavily  timbered  islands,  whose 
lofty  columns,  matted  vines,  and  luxuriant  undergrowth  of 
trees,  told  me  of  a  soil  that  was  rich  beyond  compare,  but  sel- 
dom trodden  by  the  foot  of  man  ;  and  in  the  distance  was  an 
open  viata,  beautified  by  other  islands,  and  receding  to  the  sky. 
Now,  unnumbered  swallows  were  skimming  the  water,  uttering 
a  shrill  chirp ;  then,  the  cry  of  a  disappointed  blue-jay  would 
grate  upon  the  ear ;  now,  a  boblink  and  black-bird  held  a  noisy 


10 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. 


liiii 


I  ■'  ♦■■' 
"■'!?iM 


conversation,  and  then  the  croak  of  a  raven  would  descend  from 
the  top  of  some  dead  tree ;  now  the  mocking-bird,  the  dove,  the 
red  and  blue-bird,  the  robin  and  the  sparrow,  favored  me  with 
a  chorus  of  their  own,  while  the  Avhistle  of  the  quail  and  the 
lark  would  now  and  then  break  fortli  to  vary  the  natural  orato- 
rio. And  to  cap  the  climax,  an  occasional  flock  of  ducks  might 
be  seen,  startled  away  by  our  approach,  also  a  crane  feeding  on 
the  shore,  or  a  bold  fish-hawk  pursuing  his  prey,  while  the 
senses  were  almost  oppressed  by  the  fragrance  of  blowing 
flowers,  which  met  the  eye  on  every  side.  ^  >    ' 

By  multiplying  the  above  two  scenes  almost  indefinitely,  and 
tinging  them  with  the  ever  varying  hues  and  features  of  the 
pleasant  summer  time,  and  by.  fancying  on  either  bank  of  the 
river  an  occasional  thriving  village,  "like  sunshine  in  a  shady 
place,"  you  will  have  a  very  good  idea  of  Mississippi  scenery 
between  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  and  the  Lower  Rapids. 
These  are  twelve  miles  long,  and  the  first  on  the  river  which 
impede  its  navigation.  The  water,  during  the  dry  season, 
varies  from  two  to  four  feet  in  depth  on  these  llapids,  but  the 
channel  is  so  very  crooked  that  even  the  smaller  steamers  with 
difiiculty  find  a  passage.  Below  this  point  the  eye  of  the  tra- 
veller is  occasionally  delighted  by  a  fine  prairie  landscape,  but 
the  following  picture  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  pretty  accurate 
epitome  of  the  scenery  between  Nauvoo,  at  the  head  of  the 
Rapids,  and  Rock  Island.  It  was  the  noontide  hour  of  one  of 
those  heavenly  days  which  occasionally  make  very  happy  the 
universal  human  world.  My  own  heart,  which  had  been  dark- 
ened by  the  shadows  of  life,  was  made  joyous  by  its  dazzling 
loveliness.  The  sunsliine  slept  upon  the  quiet  landscape,  as 
sweetly  as  if  the  world  had  never  known  a  deed  of  sin,  while 
every  object  which  composed  the  scene  performed  its  secret 
ministr;-  of  good.  It  was  just  such  a  day  as  George  Herbert 
has  made  immortal  in  the  followinn:  words  : 


"  Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright, 
The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky ; 
The  dew  will  weep  thy  fall  to-night, 
For  thou  must  die." 


'# 
M 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  EIVER. 


11 


At  my  feet  flowed  the  tranquil  wntors  of  the  superb  river, 
from  whose  verj'  margin  receded  a  level  prairie,  which  soon  lost 
itself,  in  Ti  rolling  country,  whose  motionless  billows  receded  to 
the  far  horizon.  On  my  extreme  left  lay  a  range  of  wood- 
crowned  and  dreary  looking  hills,  and  on  my  right  a  solitary 
bluff  which  was  as  smooth  on  every  side  as  the  most  highly  cul- 
tivated lawn.  The  atmosphere  was  soft  and  of  a  rosy  hue,  and 
made  me  long  for  the  wings  of  a  dove  that  I  might  float  away 
upon  its  bosom.  Flowers  of  loveliest  hue  and  sweetest  fragrance 
were  all  around  ;  and  the  only  sound  that  fell  upon  my  ear  was 
a  hum  of  insect  wings.  On  the  blufis  already  mentioned  a  large 
herd  of  deer  were  (quietly  cropping  their  food ;  and  in  the  air 
high  towards  the  zenith  was  floating  in  his  pride  of  freedom,  an 
immense  eagle,  the  seeming  monarch  of  the  western  world. 

Rock  Island,  Avhence  I  date  this  paper,  and  which  lies  in  the 
river  midway  between  the  villages  of  Davenport  and  Rock 
Island,  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  points  I  have  yet  seen 
during  my  journey.  It  is,. literally  speaking,  a  rocky  island, 
and  is  surmounted  by  the  dilapidated  walls  of  an  ancient  for- 
tress, and  was,  in  former  days,  the  scene  of  many  a  struggle 
between  the  red  man  and  his  brotherly  oppressor.  But  the 
place  is  greatly  changed.  Where  once  the  gayly  dressed  ofii- 
cer  quaffed  his  wine  cup  at  the  midnight  hour,  the  lonely  shriek 
of  the  owl  is  now  heard  oven  until  the  break  of  day :  and  the 
rat,  the  toad,  and  the  spider,  have  usurped  the  place  where 
once  the  soldier  hummed  his  thoughtless  song,  or  was  heard 
the  roar  of  his  artillery. 


LEGENDS  OF  THE   ILLINOIS, 


'% 


"«PI 


Starved  Rock  is  the  unpoctical  name  of  a  singular  spot  on 
the  Illinois  river  about  sixty  miles  east  of  this  place,  and  eight 
miles  south  of  Ottawa.  It  is  a  rocky  bluff,  rising  from  the 
margin  of  the  stream  to  the  height  of  more  than  a  hundred  feet, 
and  is  only  separated  from  the  main  land  by  a  narrow  chasm. 
Its  length  might  probably  measure  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet. 
Its  sides  are  perpendicular,  and  there  is  only  one  point  where 
it  can  be  ascended,  and  that  is  by  a  narrow  stair-like  path.  It 
is  covered  with  many  a  cone-like  evergreen,  and,  in  summer, 
encircled  by  luxuriant  grape  and  ivy  vines,  and  clusters  of 
richly  colored  flowers.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  most  conspicuous 
and  beautiful  pictorial  feature  of  the  sluggish  and  lonely  Illi- 
nois, down  which  I  lately  made  a  delightful  excursion,  and  is 
associated  with  the  final  extiuction  of  the  Illinois  tribe  of  In- 
dians. The  legend  which  I  heard  from  the  lips  of  a  venerable 
Indian  trader,  is  as  follows  : 

Many  years  ago,  the  whole  region  lying  between  Lake  Michi- 
gan and  the  Mississippi  was  the  home  and  dominion  of  the 
Illinois  Indians.  For  them  alone  did  the  buffalo  and  antelope 
range  over  its  broad  prairies ;  for  them  did  the  finest  of  rivers 
roll  their  waters  into  the  lap  of  Mexico,  and  bear  upon  their 
bosoms  the  birchen  canoe,  as  they  sought  to  capture  the  wild 
water  fowl ;  and  for  them  alone  did  the  dense  forests,  crowding 
upon  these  streams,  shelter  their  unnumbered  denizens. 

In  every  direction  might  be  seen  the  smoke  of  Indian  wig- 
wams curling  upwards  to  mingle  with  the  sunset  clouds,  which 
told  them  tales  of  the  spirit  land. 


'M 


LEGENDS  OP  THE  ILLINOIS. 


13 


Years  passed  on,  and  they  continued  to  be  at  ease  in  their 
possessions.  But  the  white  man  from  the  far  cast,  with  the 
miseries  which  have  ever  accompanied  him  in  his  march  of 
usurpation,  began  to  wander  into  the  wilderness,  and  trouble 
to  the  poor  red  man  was  the  inevitable  consequence.  The 
baneful  "  fire  water,"  which  was  the  gift  of  civilization,  created 
dissensions  among  the  savage  tribes,  until  in  process  of  time, 
and  on  account  of  purely  imaginary  evils,  the  PottOAvattomics 
from  Michigan  determined  to  make  war  upon  the  Indians  of 
Illinois.  Fortune,  or  rather  destiny,  smiled  upon  the  oppres- 
sors, and  the  identical  rock  in  question  was  the  spot  that  wit- 
nessed the  extinction  of  an  aboriginal  race. 

It  was  the  close  of  a  long  siege  of  cruel  warfare,  and  the 
afternoon  of  a  day  in  the  delightful  Indian  summer.     The  sun- 
shine threw  a  mellow  haze  upon  the  prairies,  and  tinged  the 
multitudinous  flowers  with  the  deepest  gold ;  while,  in  the  sha- 
dow of  the  forest  islands,  the  doe  and  her  fawn  reposed  in 
quietness,  lulled  into  a  temporary  slumber  by  the  hum  of  the 
grasshopper  and  wild  bee.     The  wilderness  world  wore  the 
aspect  of  a  perfect  Sabbath.     But  now,  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye,  the  delightful  solitude  was  l^roken  by  the  shrill  whoop  and 
dreadful  struggle  of  bloody  conflict  upon,  the  prairies  and  in 
the  woods.     All  over  the  country  woo  Eoen  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  ill-fated  Illinois,  when  it  was.  ordered  by  Providence  that 
the  concluding  skirmish  between  the  hostile  parties  should  take 
place  in  the  vicinity  of  Starved  Rock. 

The  Pottowattomies  numbered  near  three  hundred  wuriors, 
while  the  Illinois  tribe  was  reduced  to  about  one  hundred,  who 
were  mostly  aged  chiefs  and  youthful  heroes  —  the  more  des- 
perate fighters  having  already  perished,  and  the  women  and 
children, of  the  tribe  havirg  already  been  massacred  and  con- 
sumed in  their  wigwams.  The  battle  was  most  desperate 
between  the  unequal  parties. 

The  Illinois  were  about  to  give  up  all  for  lost,  when,  in  their 
frenzy,  they  gave  a  defying  shout,  and  retreated  to  the  rocky 
bluff.  From  this,  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  keep  back  their 
enemies,  but  alas !  from  that  moment  they  were  to  endure  un- 


14 


LEGENDS  OF  TUR  ILLINOIS. 


<■'  ::, 


tiiought-of  suifcring,  to  the  delight  of  tlicir  bafllcd,  yet  victori- 
ous enemies. 

And  noAV  to  describe  in  words  the  scene  that  followed  and 
was  prolonged  for  several  days,  were  utterly  impossible. 
Those  stout-hearted  Indians,  in  whom  a  nation  was  about  to 
become  extinct,  chose  to  die  upon  their  strange  fortress,  by 
starvation  and  thirst,  rather  than  su  .'render  themselves  to  the 
scalping-knife  of  their  exterminators.  And,  Avith  a  few  excep- 
tions, this  wad  the  manner  in  which  they  did  perish.  Now  and 
then,  indeed,  a  desperate  man  would  lower  himself,  hoping 
thereby  to  escape,  bu:  a  tomahawk  would  cleave  his  brain  be- 
fore he  touched  the  ground  or  water. 

Day  followed  day,  and  those  helpless  captives  sat  in  silence, 
and  gazed  imploringly  upon  their  bruad  beautiful  lands,  while 
hunger  was  gnawing  into  their  very  vitals.  Night  followed 
night,  and  they  looked  upon  the  silent  stars,  and  beyond,  to 
the  home  of  the  Great  Spirit,  but  they  murmured  not  at  his 
decree.  And  if  they  slept,  in  their  dreams  they  onco  more 
played  with  their  little  children,  or  held  converse  with  their 
wives,  and  roamed  the  woods  and  prairies  in  perfect  freedom. 
When  morning  dawned,  it  was  but  the  harbinger  of  another 
day  of  agony;  but  when  the  evening  hour  came,  a  smile  would 
somolimes  brighten  up  a  haggard  countenance,  for  the  poor, 
unhappy  soul,  through  tkc  eye  of  an  obscure  faith,  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  spirit  land.  Day  followed  day,  and  the  last 
lingering  hope  was  utterly  .abandoned.  Their  destiny  was 
scaled,  and  no  change  for  good  could  possibly  take  place,  for 
the  human  blood-hounds  who  watched  their  prey,  were  utterly 
without  ir.crcy.  The  feeble,  white-haired  chief,  crept  into  a 
thicket  and  there  breathed  his  last.  The  recently  strong- 
bodied  warrior,  uttering  a  protracted  but  feeble  yell  of  exulta- 
tion, hurled  his  tomahawk  upon  some  fiend  below,  and  then 
yielded  himself  up  to  the  pains  of  his  condition.  The  little 
form  of  the  soft-eyed  youth  parted  with  its  strength,  and  waw 
compelled  to  totter,  fall  upon  the  earth  and  die.  The  weary, 
weary  days  passed  on,  and  the  strongest  man  and  last  of  his 
race  was  numbered  with  the  dead :  and  a  glorious  banquet  was 
.presented  to  the  vulture  and  the  raven. 


'.Ik. 


thiJ 

fthc 
fac 


NAUVOO. 


On  my  way  up  the  Mississippi,  I  tarried  a  few  hours  at  the 
t'ar-famcd  city  of  Nauvoo :  and  when  I  resumed  my  course,  I 
felt  like  one  just  awakened  from  an  incomprehensible  dream. 
Surely,  surely  fanaticism  is  a  most  foul  fiend,  and  wo  ought  to 
rejoice  with  exceeding  joy  that  lie  who  ruleth  the  armies  of 
heaven,  is  yet  the  protector  of  earth,  and  its  inhabitants,  and 
will  not  leave  the  whole  of  mankind  to  the  mercy  of  their  idols. 
The  Mormon  city  occupies  an  elevated  position,  and,  as  ap- 
proached from  the  south,  appears  capable  of  containing  a  hun- 
dred thousand  souls.     But  its  gloomy  streets  bring  a  most 
melancholy  disappointment.     Where  lately  resided  no  less  than 
twenty-five  thousand  people,  there  arc  not  to  be  seen  more 
[than  about  five  hundred;  and  tlicsc,  in  mind,  body  and  purse, 
gecm  to  bo  perfectly  wretched.     In  a  walk  of  about  ten  min- 
futes,  I  counted  several  hundred  chimneys,  which  were  all  that 
I  number  of  families  had  left  behind  them,  as  menjorials  of  their 
<  fo\\y\  and  the  wickedness  of  their  persecutors.     When  this  city 
was  in  its  glory,  every  dwelling  was  surrounded  with  a  garden, 
so  that  the  corporation  limits  were  uncommonly  extensive ;  but 
Inow^  all  the  fences  are  in  ruin,  and  the  lately  crowded  streets 
[rank  with  vegetation.     Of  the  houses  left  standing,  not  more 
than  one  out  of  every  ten  is  occupied,  excepting  by  the  spider 
i»-nd  the   toad.     Hardly  a  window  retained  a  whole  pane  of 
Iglass,  and  the  doors  were  broken,  and  open,  and  hingeless. 
iNot  a  single  laughing  voice  did  I  hear  in  the  whole  place,  and 
the  lines  of  suffering  and  care  seemed  to  be  imprinted  on  the 
faces  of  the  very  children  who  met  me  in  the  way.     I  saw  not 


Wit  I 


■  ,..<i: 


;  ,;i' 


16 


NAtfVOO, 


'It 


a  single  one  of  those  numerous  domestic  animals,  which  udd  so 
much  to  the  comforts  of  human  life ;  and  1  heard  not  a  single 
song  even  from  the  robin  and  the  wren,  which  arc  always  so 
sure  to  build  their  nests  about  the  habitations  of  man.  The 
very  sunshine,  and  the  pleiisant  passing  breeze,  seemed  both  to 
speak  of  sin,  sorrow,  and  utter  desolation. 

Yet,  in  the  centre  of  this  scene  of  ruin,  stands  the  Temple  of 
Nauvoo,  which  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  finest  buildings  in 
this  country.  It  is  built  of  limestone,  quarried  within  the  lim- 
its of  the  city,  in  the  bed  of  a  dry  stream,  and  tjie  architect, 
named  Weeks,  and  every  individual  who  labored  rpon  the  build- 
ing, were  Mormons.  It  is  one  hundred  and  L-vonty-cight  feet 
in  length,  eighty  feet  wide,  and  from  the  ground  to  the  extreme 
summit  it  measures  two  hundred  and  ninety-two  feet.  It  is 
principally  after  the  Roman  stylo  of  architecture,  somewhat 
intermixed  with  the  Grecian  and  Egyptian.  •  It  has  a  portico, 
with  three  Roman  archways.  It  is  surrounded  with  pilasters ; 
at  the  base  of  each  is  carved  a  now  moon,  inverted,  while  the 
capital  of  each  is  formed  of  an  unjuuth  head,  supported  by  two 
hands  holding  a  trumpet.  Directly  under  the  tower  in  front 
is  this  inscription,  in  golden  letters :  "  The  House  of  the  Lord. 
Built  by  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter  Day  Saints. 
Comnie?icecl  April  Gth,  1841.  Holiness  to  the  Lord."  In  the 
basement  room,  which  is  paved  with  brick,  and  converges  to  the 
centre,  is  a  Baptismal  Font,  supported  by  twelve  oxen,  large 
as  life,  the  whole  executed  in  solid  stone.  Two  stairways  lead 
into  it,  from  opposite  directions,  while  on  either  side  are  two 
rooms  for  the  recording  clerks,  and,  all  around,  no  less  than 
tAvelvc  preparation  rooms  besides.  On  the  first  floor  arc  three 
pulpits,  and  a  place  for  the  choir ;  and  on  either  side  eight 
Roman  windows.  Over  the  prophet's  pulpit,  or  throne,  is  this 
inscription  :  "  !the  Lord  has  beheld  our  sacrifice :  come  after  vs." 
Between  the  first  and  second  floors  are  two  long  rooms,  appro- 
priated to  the  patriarchs,  which  are  lighted  with  eight  circular 
windows  each.  The  room  of  the  second  floor,  in  every  particu- 
lar, is  precisely  like  that  of  the  first.  Around  the  hall  of  a 
spacious  attic  are  twelve  small  rooms,  with  circular  windows, 


m 


NAUVOO. 


IT 


and  a  massive  lock  on  eacli  door.  At  the  two  front  corners  of 
the  edifice  are  two  winding  stairways,  which  meet  at  the  base 
of  the  tower,  and  lead  to  the  summit, — while  the  roof  of  the 
main  building  is  arranged  for  a  place  of  promenade ;  and  the 
walls  of  the  noble  edifice  vary  from  four  to  six  feet  in  thickness. 

Estimating  the  manual  labor  at  the  usual  prices  of  the  day, 
it  is  said  that  the  cost  of  this  Temple  was  about  ^800,000. 
The  owners  now  offer  to  sell  it  for  $200,000,  but  it  will  be  a 
long  time,  I  fancy,  before  a  purchaser  is  found. 

The  history  of  Mormonism  is  among  the  wonders  of  modern 
times.  The  delusion,  or  shallow  imposition,  originated  with 
Joe  Smith,  while  he  was  a  tavern  idler  in  Palmyra,  New  York, 
about  twenty  years  ago.  The  "Mormon  Bible,"  or  "Book  of 
Mormon,"  is  a  jargon  of  nonsense,  which  the  Prophet  cooked 
up  out  of  what  he  called  the  Golden  Bible,  and  which  he  pre- 
tended to  have  found  in  the  cleft  of  a  rock,  to  which  ho  had 
been  guided  by  a  vision.  Smith's  first  convert  was  a  substan- 
tial, but  weak-minded  farmer,  named  Harris,  at  whose  expense 
the  book  waa  first  printed  in  Rochester ;  and  the  bloody  scenes 
which  attended  the  sudden  death  of  the  Great  Impostor,  seem 
only  to  have  increased  the  number  of  his  blind  followers. 

The  Mormon,  who  took  me  over  the  Temple,  and  gave  me 
the  above  information,  was  nearly  broken-hearted.  Like  the 
majority  of  his  brethren,  remaining  in  the  city,  ho  was  without 
money,  and  without  friends ;  and  yet,  it  was  to  be  his  destiny, 
in  a  few  days,  to  push  his  way  into  the  wilderness,  with  a  largo 
family  depending  upon  him  for  support.  It  was  in  a  most 
melancholy  tone,  indeed,  that  he  spoke  to  me  the  following 
words :  "  Mine,  sir,  is  a  hard,  hard  lot.  What  if  my  religion 
is  a  false  one,  if  I  am  sincere,  is  it  not  cruel,  in  the  extreme, 
for  those  who  call  themselves  the  only  true  church,  to  oppress 
me  and  my  people,  as  they  have  done  ?  My  property  has  been 
stolen  from  me,  and  my  dwelling  been  consumed;  and  now, 
while  my  family  ia  dependent  upon  a  more  fortunate  brother 
for  support,  my  little  children  cannot  go  into  the  streets  without 
being  pelted  with  stones,  and  my  daughters  cannot  go  to  the 
well  after  a  pail  of  water,  without  being  insulted  by  the  young 
2 


m 


n 


NAoroa* 


m 


i  II 


'     1 


■;  i'  .III 


"ii! 


and  noble  among  our  persecutors.  I  do  not  deserve  tliia  treat' 
mcnt.  I  am  not  a  Hcoundrel,  or  a  foreigner ; — far,  far  from  the 
truth  ia  this  supposition.  My  gnndfuthcr,  sir,  was  killed  at 
the  battle  of  Yorktown,  as  an  officer  of  the  glorious  llevolution  i 
my  own  father,  too,  was  also  an  American  army  officer  during 
the  last  war ;  and  all  my  kindred  have  ever  been  faithful  to  the 
upright  laws  of  the  government.  Knowing,  therefore,  these 
things  to  be  true,  and  knowing,  too,  that  I  am  an  honest  man, 
it  is  very  hard  to  be  treated  by  my  fellow-countrymen  as  a 
*  vagabond.'  0, 1  love  this  sacred  Temple  dearly,  and  it  makc» 
me  weep  to  think  that  I  must  so  soon  leave  it  to  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  the  Christian  world." 

Thus  far  had  this  poor  man  proceeded,  when  his  utterance 
was  choked  with  tears, — and  I  was  glad  of  it,  for  my  own  heart 
was  aflfected  by  his  piteous  tale.  I  gave  him  a  bit  of  money  for 
his  trouble,  when  ho  was  called  to  attend  a  new  arrival  of  visit- 
ors, and  I  was  left  alone  in  the  belfry  of  the  Temple. 

Then  it  was  that  I  had  an  opportunity  to  muse  upon  the 
superb  panorama  which  met  my  gaze  upon  every  side.  I  was 
in  a  truly  splendid  temple, — that  temple  in  the  centre  of  a  deso- 
late city, — and  that  city  the  centre  of  an  apparently  boundless 
wilderness.  To  the  east  lay  in  rare  beauty  the  grand  Prairie 
of  Illinois,  reaching  to  the  waters  of  Michigan ;  to  the  north 
and  south  faded  away  the  winding  Mississippi ;  and  on  the  west^ 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  spread  out  a  sea  of  forest  land, 
entering  which,  I  could  just  distinguish  a  caravan  of  exiled 
Mormons,  on  their  line  of  march  for  Oregon  and  California. 
As  before  remarked,  when  I  went  forth  from  out  the  massy 
porches  of  the  Mormon  Temple,  to  journey  deeper  into  the  wil- 
derness, I  felt  like  one  awakened  from  a  dream. 


PRAIRIE  DU  CIIIEN. 


his  utterance 
my  own  heart 

of  money  for 
rrival  of  visit- 
pie. 

U80  upon  the 
'  side.  I  "was 
litre  of  a  deso- 
itly  boundless 
grand  Prairie 

to  the  north 

d  on  the  west, 
of  forest  land, 
ivan  of  exiled 
nd  California. 
)ut  the  massy 

r  into  the  wil- 


JuST  above  Rock  Island  are  the  Upper  Rapids  of  the  Mia- 
i^issippi,  which  extend  some  fifteen  miles,  and  have  a  fall  of 
twenty-seven  feet.  Th«iy  made  a  deep  impression  upon  my 
mind,  because  it  was  thr>.e  that  our  eteamboo^'  swung  upon  a 
rock  for  some  thirty  hours,  and  whore,  soon  as  wo  wore  clear, 
we  ran  into  a  downward-bound  steamer,  and  settled  her  to  the 
^bottom ;  but  fortunately  no  lives  were  lost.  I  noticed  on  these 
and  tho  Lower  Rapids  a  certain  fly  or  miller,  which  were  at  the 
evening  hour  flying  about  in  immense  numbers.  They  are  called 
the  Mormon  fly,  and  T  was  told  were  found  on  these  rapids 
alone,  and  that  whore v or  they  alight,  there  they  remain,  if  not 
disturbed,  until  they  die. 

Soon  after  wo  had  passed  these  rapids,  I  enjoyed  another 
prairie  scene,  wh  h  was  even  more  superb  than  the  one  I  have 
already  attempt  id  to  describe.  On  this  occasion  the  bank  in 
the  foreground  was  covered  Avith  grass  that  must  have  been  at 
least  six  feet  high,  and  the  only  living  creatures  that  I  saw  were 
a  beautiful  doe  and  her  fawn,  quenching  their  thirst  in  the 
limpid  stream. 

The  Illinois  side  of  the  Mississippi,  between  the  Upper  Rapids 
and  the  Fever  river,  which  leads  you  to  Galena,  is  characterized 
by  an  extensive  range  of  fantastic  bluffs  and  isolated  rocks. 
Covered  as  they  are  with  vines  and  mosses,  they  present  the 
appearance  of  ancient  ruins ;  and  it  requires  no  great  stretch 
of  the  imagination  to  discover  towers  and  turrets  of  ancient 
castles,  fortress  walls  that  have  been  partly  battered  down,  and 
solitary  pillars  rising  in  gloomy  grandeur,  as  if  to  preach  a 


twill,  iif 


20 


PRAIRIE  DU  CHIEN. 


'lu!': 


salutary  lesson  to  the  passing  traveller,  upon  the  ravages  of 
time.  This  same  kind  of  singular  scenery  ornaments  the  river 
in  the  vicinity  of  Dubuque,  (which,  like  Galena,  is  some  dis- 
tance from  the  Mississippi,)  and  extends  as  far  as  Prairie  Du 
Chien,  only,  as  you  ascend,  the  bluffs  become  more  lofty  and 
imposing.  On  the  summit  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  these 
bluffs  is  a  small  cabin  and  a  large  wooden  cross,  where  the 
French  trader  and  miner,  Dubuque,  was  buried,  according  to 
his  oAvn  request,  and  in  a  coflSn  made  of  solid  lead. 

Prairie  Du  Chien  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  interesting 
and  beautiful  places  on  the  Mississippi.  It  takes  its  name  from 
the  fact  that  it  was  once  the  camping  place  of  a  Fox  Indian 
Chief,  whose  name  was — The  Dog.  The  prairie  extends  along 
the  eastern  bank  of  the  river  for  about  ten  miles  ;  on  the  one 
hand  it  slopes  gently  down  the  river,  and  on  the  other  is 
bounded  by  a  range  of  bluffs,  which  are  some  five  hundred  feet 
high,  and  exceedingly  picturesque.  The  houses  that  shelter* 
the  inhabitants  of  this  place  are  planted  without  any  order,  but 
as  it  is  one  of  our  more  ancient  trading  posts,  there  is  a  rude 
and  romantic  appearance  about  them  which  is  quite  refreshing. 
Here,  in  the  form  of  an  isolated  square,  lie  the  barracks  of  Fort 
Crawford,  where  the  discordant  sounds  of  the  drum  and  the 
shrill  whistle  of  the  fife  are  often  heard  ;  while  in  another  part 
of  the  plain  are  the  ruins  of  an  old  fortress  almost  level  with 
the  ground.  Now  a  lonely  Catholic  church  is  seen  holding 
forth  its  gilded  cross  ;  and  now,  the  store  of  the  Indian  trader 
is  surrounded  with  a  herd  of  Winnebago  Indians,  who  resort 
here  for  purposes  of  trade.  The  territory  of  this  tribe  lies 
directly  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Mississippi,  where  the  eye 
is  again  gratified  by  a  range  of  wood-covered  bluffs,  rising 
directly  from  the  margin  of  the  stream.  From  the  regular 
lines  of  naked  strata  which  extend  along  the  siderf  of  all  the 
bluffs  in  this  vicinity,  it  is  evident  that  the  spot  called  Prairie 
Du  Chien  was  formerly  the  bed  of  the  Mississippi,  but  how 
many  centuries  ago  this  was  the  case,  it  is  impossible  to 
imagine.  And  yet  if  this  conclusion  is  correct,  and  we  remem- 
ber that  there  are  hundreds  of  similar  prairies  as  well  as  bottom 


i*'ii 


PRAIRIE  DU  CHIEN. 


21 


lands  on  the  Mississippi,  we  must  also  conclude  that  this  stream 
is  now  a  mere  rivulet  to  what  it  was  in  the  times  of  old. 

On  the  bluffs,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Prairie  Du  Chien, 
are  some  of  the  most  remarkable  of  those  strange  memorials  of 
a  forgotten  race  which  have  yet  been  discovered  in  our  country. 
Like  those  of  Ohio,  Kentucky,  Missouri,  and  Illinois,  those  of 
the  more  northern  wilderness  will  long  continue  to  puzzle  tlie 
antiquarian,  and  furnish  food  for  the  poet  and  the  moralist. 
Here  the  mounds,  trenches,  and  cellars  are  found  connected  in 
one  scries  of  works,  which  seem  to  have  been  used  for  military 
purposes.  Deep  under  the  surface  of  the  ground,  tomahawks 
of  brass  (differing  materially  from  those  now  in  use)  have  been 
found ;  and  stories  arc  told  of  gigantic  skeletons  having  been 
disinterred  in  the  neighborhood.  The  only  things  which  throw 
any  light  upon  these  singular  ruins,  are  the  uncouth  and  un- 
satisfactory legends  of  the  Indians,  who  tell  us  that  a  race  of 
white  giants  were  once  the  possessors  of  the  soil  which  they 
have  inherited  from  their  warlike  and  victorious  ancestors. 
These  vestiges  of  an  extinct  race,  "  lie  in  their  sunless  cham- 
bers like  the  spirits  of  the  past,  as  if  in  mockery  of  an  age 
which  arrogates  to  itself  the  term  of  an  age  of  light.  They 
will  probably  remain  for  ever  a  signal  rebuke  upon  the  learn- 
ing of  modern  times,  assuming,  as  it  does,  the  pride  of  universal 
knowledge." 

At  this  place  I  met  and  had  a  long  conversation  with  an 
Indian  trader,  who  had  lived  in  the  wilderness  for  more  than 
half  a  century.  He  gave  me  an  interesting  account  of  the 
battle  of  Bad  Axe,  at  which  he  was  present.  This  spot  lies 
some  distance  below  Prairie  Du  Chien,  and  received  its  name 
from  an  Indian,  who  was  killed  and  buried  there  at  an  early 
day.  The  trader  told  me  that  the  word  battle  was  not  the  right 
one  to  use  in  speaking  of  that  conclusion  of  the  Black  Hawk 
war ; — it  was  a  cruel  massacre.  The  poor  Indians  were  crossing 
the  river  (as  they  had  been  for  days)  with  all  possible  despatch, 
when  they  were  overtaken  by  a  force  of  three  thousand  of  our* 
well-armed  soldiers.  The  surprise  caused  great  consternation 
among  the  Indians ;  all  who  could,  made  their  escape,  and  the 


Imiii  i.i. 


jih..i'  i  ■ 


22 


PRAIRIE  DU  CHIEN. 


.!'!*■'!!  1 1 


i   ! 


■■  -Ml 


leader  of  this  crowd  was  Black  Hawk  himself.  Six  of  our 
people  alone  were  killed :  and  nine-tenths  of  the  two  hundred 
red-skins  slain,  were  tvomen  and  children.  The  famished  con- 
dition of  the  enemy  on  that  occasion  must  have  been  melancholy 
indeed.  My  old  friend  told  me,  that  among  the  scenes  which 
he  witnessed  on  the  ground  after  this  massacre,  was  a  dead 
child,  with  the  meatless  bono  of  a  young  colt's  leg  grasped 
firmly  in  its  little  hand  ; — it  had  died  of  starvation  while  cling- 
ing to  the  body  of  its  murdered  mother.  And  this  is  a  portion 
of  the  payment  that  our  Government  has  ever  been  in  the  habit 
of  awarding  to  the  poor  Indian,  for  the  splendid  territories 
which  were  his  only  inheritance. 

The  Winnebagoes  are  about  the  only  Indians  who  visit 
Prairie  Du  Chien  for  purposes  of  traffic ;  formerly,  however, 
it  was  the  congregating  place  for  the  nations  Avhich  lived  upon 
the  Fox  and  Wisconsin  rivers,  as  well  as  those  upon  the  head 
waters  of  the  Mississippi.  The  Winnebagoes  were  once  almost 
as  numerous  as  the  leaves  upon  the  trees,  but  the  nation  has 
been  so  far  reduced  that  only  about  three  thousand  now  remain. 
And  a  more  unhappy  people  do  not  exist  upon  the  continent, — 
warriors,  women  and  children  are  all  apparently  broken  hearted. 
In  olden  times  they  were  a  race  of  brave  men  and  beautiful 
women,  but  now  they  prowl  among  their  native  hills  a  brother- 
hood of  vagabonds,  exceedingly  poor  and  universally  despised. 
And  yet  the  white  man  who  was  the  author  of  all  this  misery 
counts  his  gold,  and  congratulates  himself  with  the  idea  that  he 
is  a  Christian. 

But  I  am  wandering  from  what  I  was  about  to  record,  viz., 
the  history  of  a  visit  to  the  lodge  of  Winneshfc,  head  chief  of 
the  Winnebagoes.  The  business  which  had  brought  the  old 
man  to  the  Prairie,  was,  to  exchange  the  skin  of  a  recently 
captured  bear,  for  a  sranll  bag  of  flour  and  some  Ammunition. 
I  had  made  him  a  present  of  tobacco,  (which  is  about  the  only 
currency  that  a  traveller  can  make  use  of  in  the  wilderness,) 
'and  when  it  was  intimated  to  him  that  I  should  be  pleased  to 
visit  his  lodge,  he  immediately  pressed  me  to  become  his  guest, 
which  invitation  was  duly  accepted.      Ho  had  come  to  the 


III"!' 


PRAIRIE  DU  CHIEN. 


23 


Prairie  alone,  in* a  small  wooden  canoe,  in  ■which,  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour,  I  seated  myself  and  away  we  started  up  the  Mis- 
sissippi. With  the  language  of  my  old  friend  I  was  partially 
acquainted,  and  this,  with  my  knowledge  of  the  Indian  charac- 
ter, and  his  smattering  of  English,  enabled  me  to  carry  on  a 
respectable  conversation.  The  old  man  told  me  that  I  must 
keep  very  quiet  in  ray  seat,  as  he  thoi^ht  me  a  novice  in  canoe 
navigation ;  whereupon  I  seized  a  paddle  and  feathered  it  a  few 
moments  in  a  style  worthy  of  the  chief  himself,  which  not  only 
surprised  but  pleased  him.  After  a  quiet  sail  of  about  an  hour, 
during  which  time  I  enjoyed  some  of  the  finest  scenery  and  one 
of  the  brightest  of  sunsets,  the  canoe  suddenly  turned  into  the 
mouth  of  a  little  creek,  and  I  was  landed  at  the  threshhold  of 
my  companion's  lodge.  It  was  made  of  buffalo  skins  and 
shaped  like  a  sugar  loaf.  It  stood  upon  a  plot  of  level  ground,, 
in  the  centre  of  a  brotherhood  of  elms,  and  at  the  foot  of  an 
abrupt  hill.  It  was  so  far  elevated  as  to  command  a  southern 
view  of  the  Mississippi,  extending  at  least  a  dozen  miles, — the 
river  meanwhile  making  two  or  three  magnificent  sweeps,  as  if 
in  honor  of  the  beautiful  islands  which  rested  like  jewels  on  its 
peaceful  bosom. 

The  extent  of  Winneshic's  family  I  was  unable  to  learn,  but 
the  only  individuals  whom  I  saw  at  his  lodge  were  his  wife,  a 
couple  of  fine  looking  boys  and  a  little  girL  They  were  all 
glad  to  see  me,  and  treated  me  with  marked  politeness.  I  was 
invited  to  a  seat  upon  the  handsomest  mat  in  the  lodge,  and 
while  the  chief  sat  by  my  side  smoking  his  pipe  and  entertain- 
ing me  with  the  strange  wild  stories  of  his  life,  the  wife  busied 
herself  in  finishing  a  pair  of  moccasins,  while  the  children  were 
cooking  a  wilderness  supper.  That  supper  consisted  of  boiled 
fish,  a  roasted  duck,  and  a  piece  of  dough  about  half  baked,  all 
of  which  we  ate  with  our  fingers,  and  without  salt. 

After  the  repast  was  ended  I  thought  it  my  turn  to  entertain 
my  friends,  and  for  this  purpose  had  brought  my  portfolio  of 
sketches,  Avhich  were  carefully  examined  by  the  light  of  a 
blazing  fire.  Some  of  the  scenes'  I  had  sketched  were  recog- 
nized by  the  whole  family,  and  caused  them  to  look  with  wonder 


J.  -i'f 


24 


PRAIRIE  DU  CHIEJT. 


i  l!  • 


upon  my  supposed  talent  and  upon  the  lead  pencil  which  I  also 
exhibited  to  them.  Their  astonishment  amused  me  exceedingly, 
and  I  greatly  increased  it  by  sketching  a  profile  of  the  chief 
and  his  better-half.  It  so  happened  that  I  waa  successful  in 
my  attempt,  and  when  I  '>resentcd  the  sketches  to  the  indivi- 
duals represented,  they  ransacked  every  nook  and  corner  of 
their  lodge  for  something  to  give  me  in  return.  The  chief 
handed  me  a  beautiful  pipe  from  the  famous  red  stone  quarry, 
while  the  wife  presented  mo  with  the  most  fantastic  pair  of 
moccasins  in  her  possession  ;  the  little  girl  gave  me  a  cake  of 
maple  sugar,  and  one  of  the  boys  presented  me  with  an  eagle's 
plume,  and  the  other  Avith  a  bow  and  arrows. 

It  was  near  midnight  before  I  was  suflFored  to  lie  down  to 
rest,  but  before  taking  this  step  I  emerged  from  the  wigwam  for 
•  the  purpose  of  looking  upon  the  Mississippi  at  that  hour.  And 
a  lovely  sight  indeed  was  it  my  privilege  to  behold.  The  moon 
was  sweeping  across  her  cloudless  field  of  blue — a  beautiful  but 
impatient  queen — while  an  occainonal  star  gazed  upward  from 
its  watchtower,  as  if  in  admiration  of  the  heaven-boru  spectacle. 
All  the  hills  and  islands  were  in  deep  shadow,  and  before  me, 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  lay  exposed  the  windings  of  the 
stream,  which  vas  brighter  than  a  shi'ld  of  burnished  steel. 
So  very  still  was  the  air  around,  that  yju  i.  '^ht  now  hear  the 
shrill  note  of  some  frightened  deer  far  ,  7ay  upon  the  hillside;' 
and  now  the  scream  of  a  lonely  loon,  the  splashing  of  a  leaping 
fish,  and  the  rippling  of  the  rivulet  at  my  feet,  which  glided  into 
the  bosom  of  its  parent  stream  through  a  cluster  of  tall  reeds. 
With  this  picture  and  its  manifold  associations  deeply  fixed  in 
my  mind,  I  re-entered  the  lodge,  threw  myself  upon  a  mat  in 
the  midst  of  my  Indian  friends,  and  was  soon  in  a  deep  sleep. 

I  arose,  on  the  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  and  after 
partaking  of  a  breakfast  of  boiled  fish,  I  entered,  with  the  chief, 
into  his  canoe,  and  in  forty  minutes  was  at  my  quarters,  in 
Prairie  Du  Chien. 


"i'M 


iiim 


'm 


which  I  also 
3xceedingly, 
of  the  chief 
successful  in 

0  the  indivi- 
id  corner  of 

The  chief 
tone  quarry, 
istic  pair  of 
no  a  cake  of 
;h  an  eagle's 

lie  down  to 
3  wigwam  for 
;  hour.  And 
The  moon 
beautiful  but 
upward  from 
ru  spectacle. 

1  before  me, 
dings  of  the 
nished  steel, 
low  hear  the 
the  hillside;- 
of  a  leaping 

ih  glided  into 
»f  tall  reeds, 
leply  fixed  in 
pen  a  mat  in 
deep  sleep, 
lur,  and  after 
dth  the  chief, 
f  quarters,  in 


THE   LEAD   REGION. 


The  lead  region  of  the  Mississippi  occupies  not  far  from  one 
hundred  square  miles.  The  two  principal  towns  are  Galena 
and  Dubuque,  which  are  both  handsome  and  flourishing.  The 
original  possessors  of  this  land  were  the  Saque  and  Fox 
Indians,  who  used  to  sell  to  the  white  settlers  on  the  frontier 
the  ore  which  they  often  found  upon  the  surface  of  their  soiL 
The  first  white  man  who  went  into  the  mining  business  here 
was  Dubuque.  Of  this  man  many  strange  stories  are  related. 
He  was  a  kind  of  medicine  prophet  among  the  Indians,  and  is 
said  to  have  had  a  remarkable  influence  over  them,  as  well  as 
over  the  rattlesnake,  the  bite  of  which  he  pretended  to  cure  by 
enchantment.  He  became  a  great  favorite  with  the  Indians, 
and  for  a  long  time  was  the  only  man,  not  of  their  blood,  whom 
they  would  suffer  to  live  upon  their  soil.  After  his  death,  they 
placed  him  in  a  leaden  coflBn  of  their  own  manufacture,  and 
buried  him  on  the  picturesque  bluff  which  bears  his  name  as 
already  mentioned;  and  after  this  they  destroyed  e^'-^ry  vestige 
of  his  property. 

In  process  of  time,  extravagant  mineral  stories  were  circu- 
lated throughout  the  country,  and  the  general  government  pur- 
chased the  Indian  El  Dorado  of  its  possessors.  The  first  man 
wlio  went  into  the  mining  business  of  Galena,  after  the  country 
had  become  our  own,  was  Col.  Richard  M.  Johnson.  Since 
that  time,  thousands  of  people,  on  various  occasions,  have  made 
and  lost  money  in  this  peculiar  business,  which,  from  its  very 
nature,  is  in  reality,  a  lottery.  Lead,  lead  is  the  burthen  of 
every  body's  song,  and  the  quantities  weekly  shipped  to  Saint 


26 


THE  LEAD  KFolION. 


i*r'-  ^'ii; 


:     I 


m 


Louis  arc  truly  immense ;  thirty  million  pounds  having  been 
smelted  in  a  single  year.  In  1826,  a  vein  of  astonishing  rich- 
ness was  found  by  three  brothers  named  Gratiet,  and  that  too, 
after  digging  only  a  single  foot,  while  shafts  have  since  been 
sunk  at  least  two  hundred  feet.  But  a  man  may  dig  until 
doomsday  without  finding  a  lead,  and  consequently  die  a  beg- 
gar —  while  another,  in  a  few  months  will  realize  a  fortune, 
upon  which  he  is  too  apt  to  retire,  and  then  squander  at  the 
gaming  table,  so  that  you  also  soon  find  him  an  idler,  and  in 
want.  One  individual  I  have  myself  knov,-ii,  who  came  to  Ga- 
'  "na  with  five  hundred  dollars ;  and  having  labored  with  un- 
ceiising  industry  for  about  three  years,  and  expended  his  little 
fortune,  when  I  saw  him,  had  not  the  means  of  purchasing  a 
loaf  of  broad,  and  was  utterly  without  employment.  Notwith- 
standing the  liberal  mining  regulations  of  the  government,  the 
■fates  were  against  him,  and  he  Avas  compelled  to  give  up  his 
mineral  dreams  in  despair.  Another  individual,  whom.  I  saw  at 
Galena,  was  remarkably  fortunate  in  his  operations.  A  little 
more  than  a  year  age  he  commenced  digging  a  certain  hillside, 
and  the  first  thing  he  knew,  his  spade  struck  against  a  solid  mass 
of  ore.  He  was  encouraged,  and  proceeded  in  his  excavations, 
and,  in  the  course  cl'  a  single  year,  sold  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
eighty  per  cent,  jro  to  amount  to  the  sum  of  twenty-three 
thousand  dollars.  His  mine  is  still  yielding  quite  abundantly, 
and  as  it  is  probi  bly  the  best  in  this  region,  I  will  descnbe  it 
in  a  few  words. 

.  After  descending  a  shaft  of  some  eighty  feet  in  depth,  by 
jumping  into  a  tub  attached  to  a  stout  rope,  you  find  yourself 
in  the  centre  of  an  immense  cave,  with  chambers  leading  in 
various  directions.  The  walls  and  ceilings  are  mostly  of  pure 
sand,  excepting  where  an  occasional  solid  mass  of  native  lead 
glistens  like  silver  or  gold,  in  the  torch-light.  Square  blocks 
of  the  ore,  weighing  from  half  a  pound  to  one  hundred,  all  lie  as 
accurately  dovetailed  together,  as  if  placed  there  by  the  hands 
of  a  master  mason.  While  looking  upon  these  singular  masses, 
I  could  hardly  banish  the  thought  from  my  mind,  that  we  were 
in  view  of  treasures  which  had  been  hidden  here  in  those  days 


M 


;i;'!1l 


THE  LEAD  REGION. 


27 


■when  giants  inhabited  the  world.  When  my  curiosity  was  fully 
satisfied,  I  seized  the  rope,  and  with  a  palpitating  heart  passed 
upward  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth  into  the  pleasant  sun- 
shine. 

Twenty  years  ago  it  took  forty  days  to  perform  a  trip  to 
Saint  Louis  from  Galena,  and  now  the  same  trip  is  accom- 
plished in  as  many  hours ;  then  in  pirogues  by  means  of  what 
was  called  bushwhackinff,  cordcling  or  warping,  but  now  by 
swi^'t  and  handsome  steamers.  Rare  society  had  they  at  Ga- 
lena in  those  days,  and  the  mixture  is  not  yet  extinct.  The 
working  men  are  the  diggers  and  smelters,  and  then  come  the_ 
store-keepers,  the  black-legs  and  innocent  gentlemen  from  afar, 
vagabond  Irish,  Wolverines  from  Michigan,  Hoosiers  from  In- 
diana, Suckers  from  Illinois,  Buckeyes  from  Ohio,  Pukes  from 
Kentucky,  and  ffalf  horse  and  Half  alligators  from  everywi  ore 
on  the  Lower  Mississippi. 

•Major  Campton  is  the  name  of  a  noted  character,  who  once 
resided  at  Galena,  and  whose  hand  I  have  shaken  in  a  not 
very  distant  city.  He  is  a  powerfully  built  man,  who  has 
spent  his  whole  life  among  the  wildest  of  mortals,  and  whose 
various  occupations  have  caused  him  to  be  well  known  from  the 
banks  of  the  Ohio  to  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior,  where  he  is 
now  figuring  in  tho  copper  line,  having  made  and  lost  a  fortune 
at  Galena.  A  natural  consequence  of  his  peculiar  experience 
is,  that  he  perfectly  understands  the  art  of  fighting :  though  he 
is  so  much  of  a  gentleman,  that  he  could  not  be  called  a  bully. 
It  so  happened  that,  while  travelling  in  his  own  conveyance, 
and  accompanied  by  his  wife,  during  a  pleasant  day  last  sum- 
mer he  came  to  a  halt  on  the  margin  of  a  certain  river,  and 
shouted  for  tho  ferryman.  In  due  time  the  indispensable  gen- 
tleman was  ready,  and  while  inquiring  the  news  of  the  day,  he 
was  suddenly  smitten  by  a  new  thought,  and  dropping  the 
painter  of  the  old  scow,  looked  inquiringly  into  the  major's 
face,  when  the  followhig  dialogue  ensued : — 
"Stranger,  is'nt  your  name  Major  Campton?" 
"Yes,  sir,  it  is.  What  business  have  you  to  transact  with 
me?" 


IMHI,  ....;• 


THE  LEAD  KEaiON. 


■  i 


Wi 


r,i 


i 

'h|»ii 


ill 


'You  are  the  very  man  I  have  long  been  wanting  to  sec,  for 
you  must  know  that  I  am  the  bully  of  the  north." 

"Indeed!  What  do  I  care  for  that?" 

"I've  liearn  tell  that  you  arc  a  famous  fighter,  and  I  should 
like  to  have  you  give  me  a  thrashing  if  you  can." 

"  Why,  man,  I  have  nothing  against  you,  and  do  not  want  to 
make  a  fool  of  myself." 

"But  you  shall,  though,  ray  honey;  and  you  don't  cross  this 
ferry  until  it  is  decided  who  is  cock  of  the  walk." 

Remonstrance  on  the  part  of  the  major  was  all  in  vain,  the 
ferryman  was  determined  to  fight.  The  major  held  a  short 
consultation  with  his  wife,  who  was  of  course  in  great  trouble, 
,  but  taking  off  his  coat  and  unbuttoning  his  straps,  he  stcpt  out 
upon  a  grassy  spot  and  waited  for  the  ferryman's  attack.  To 
shorten  a  long  story,  the  fight  was  a  tedious  one,  and  ended  in 
the  total  defeat  of  the  challenger,  who  presented  in  himself, 
after  the  struggle,  an  admirable  picture  of  border  heroism. 
He  had  strength  enough  left,  however,  to  ferry  the  champion 
over  the  river ;  and  when  the  major  offered  to  pay  the  accus- 
tomed favo,  tho  latter  held  not  out  his  hand,  but  making  a  rude 
bow,  he  exclaimed;  —  ^^N^ot  a  dime,  sir,  good  afternoon." 


'1-   HI!' 


mi 


THE   ALPINE   REGION. 


That  portion  of  the  Mississippi  which  extends  from  Prairie 
Du  Chien,  to  Lake  Pepin  is  the  most  mountainous  anJ  truly 
beautiful  on  the  whole  river,  and  may  with  strict  propriuLy  be 
called  the  Alpine  Region.     The  river  hero  varies  from  a  quar- 
ter to  a  full  mile  in  width,  and  on  either  side  throughout  the 
whole  distance  is  a  range  of  mountains  which  sometimes  actu- 
ally bend  over  the  river,  and  sometimea  recede  into  the  interior 
for  several  miles.     The  Mississippi  hero  is  rather  sluggish,  but 
translucent,  and  filled  with  islands  which  are  covered  with 
every  variety  of  forest  trees  found  between  Kentucl^  and  the 
Great  Lakes.     But  the  willow  and  the  elm  are  pre-eminently 
beautiful.    Well  do  I  remember  with  what  delight  I  mused 
upon  the  changing  landscape,  as  our  vessel  glided  onward  and 
onward  into  the  wild  and  silent  wilderness.     The  mountains  of 
this  region  are  not  quite  so  lofty  as  the  Highlands  of  the  Hud- 
son, (to  which  they  have  been  compared,)  but  they  are  far  more 
picturesque,  fantastic,  and  extensive.     At  one  moment  may  be 
seen  a  cone-shaped  mountain  rising  to  the  height  of  some  eight 
hundred  feet,  and  completely  covered,  to  the  extreme  summit, 
with  a  carpet  of  grass ;  now  the  eye  will  linger  on  a  perpendi- 
cular bluflF,  pictured  against  the  sky,  like  a  fortress  of  the 
Mound  Builders,  and  apparently  frowning  upon  the  softly  flow- 
ing stream  that  laves  its  foliage-hidden  base ;  now,  you  sail  in 
the  shadow  of  a  pillared  temple  that  seems  to  prop  the  sky : 
and  now,  elong  a  continued  succession  of  peaks  and  points  that 
fade  a>vay,  until  lost  in  the  rosy  atmosphere  of  evening.     Dur- 
ing all  this  time,  your  vessel  will  be  gliding  around  and  between 


'i 


80 


TUE  ALPINE  REdluN. 


ilii 


'liii' 


!  ir;|;| 


the  most  cliarming  of  green  islands,  some  of  them  containing  a 
solitary  grave,  others  a  little  brotherhood  of  Indians,  lounging 
upon  the  grasfey  opening  before  their  wigwams ;  while  some 
happy  bird  will  favor  you  with  an  occasional  song,  or  the  leap 
of  a  trout  take  the  fancy  captive,  to  revel  in  the  cool  chambers 
of  the  stream.  Here  it  is,  too,  that  the  famous  Island  Moun- 
tain rises  to  the  height  of  five  hundred  feet,  completely  covered 
with  trees,  and  capped  by  a  cluster  of  broken  rocks.  It  is 
several  miles  long  and  about  one  in  width,  and  is  the  largest 
island  in  the  Mississippi.  From  time  immemorial  it  has  been 
celebrated  for  the  numbc  "''  its  rattlesnakes,  and  on  a  grassy 
plot  at  its  base  stands  a  cluster  of  graves,  where  repose  the 
ashes  of  stranger  Indians  who  died  upon  the  island  from  wounds 
inllictcd  by  these  reptiles. 

The  next  object  that  I  would  attempt  to  describe  on  my  way 

up  the  Mississippi,  is  Lake  Pepin.     It  lives  in  my  memory  as 

the  Horicon  of  the  wilderness.     It  is  an  extended  portion  of 

the  Mississippi,  —  twenty-three  miles  lortg,  and  from  three  to 

four  wide.     It  is  surrounded  with  hills,  which  abound  in  almost 

every  vanjety  of  game ;  its  shores  arc  gravelly,  abounding  in 

valuable  agates  and  cornelians;  the  water  is  clear,  and  very 

df  ep,  and  it  yields  the  very  best  of  fish  in  great  abundance. 

My  first  view  of  Lake  Pepin  (I  wish  I  knew  how  it  came  by 

that  name ! )  was  on  one  of  the  most  charming  evenings  that  I 

ever  witnessed.     The  cloudless  sky  was  studded  with  stars,  and 

the  moon  sailed  upward  and  onward  with  an  uncommon  beauty, 

as  if  proud  of  the  wilderness  world  she  was  then  flooding  with 

her  beams.    For  hours  did  I  sit  musing  upon  the  eastern  shore, 

near  the  outlet,  whence  I  could  discern  no  less  than  sixteen 

peaks  or  blufis,  looming  in  solitude  against  the  horizon.     "The 

holy  time  was  quiet  as  a  nun,  breathless  with  adoration."     The 

water  was  without  a  ripple,  and  reflected  in  its  pure  bosom 

every  star,  while  the  moon,  as  if  determined  that  it  should  so 

remain  forever,  spanned  it  with  a  bar  of  gold.    The  only  sounds 

that  trembled  in  the  air  were  the  hoot  of  an  owl,  the  wail  of  a 

loon,  and  a  hum  from  the  insect  world.   I  looked  and  wondered, 

uii'il  the  night  was  far  spent,  and  the  dew  was  heavy  and  cold. 


# 


Ml 


«▼       p^ 


^ 


^4 


,*"■"■■' 


,.  ■t,m' ■■'■■■         ,*■■      V*" 


r 


;;|.»i« 


,<W."'-'i     . 


.^^J."" 


*;-;;< 


■;*"• 


.-.^ 


f. 


B,' 


ij  iim' 


lii'iiip 


1  ' 


lijUHM 

■'l 


'iO 


•r<j^  *M'r  *•  Hx^-iifc^j,, 


tt|.  n 

Imj  iij;  bird  w 

,11*  It  t' 
of  •!  • 

111'!'        • 

;  It  .       »^i 
1  r:»- 


•/)» 


„•  Mootl  of  htllll^ll^,     -Miii^inj.' 

It.  orr*  H'^lr  '^'       "If.,  M'liic!  tiuUiC 

!i't.i  it  H,  t<»o,  iliMt  till-  liimou*  'i.-i!uii'4  .Hour.- 

■ -^it  ol'five  l:vumu4  !V'«i,<  lu.i.!'  v\y    •      i'! 

, ,   J  b>  a  i;lu^v  of  bruk'/i  'ooks.     Tt  i« 

»iiti  iif«()Ut  one  in'  wi.Uli,  uml   "    ^"o  !ai';;o«t 

:..i..u|r'Br  !l..-  MifMBsippi.     Vtn\  ima  iTr.moiui.rial  ..  la-,  Irt'O 

\>v  tie  nunib.i  of  id»*r:itiUs»:»kps  !»ri,l  on  n  u'rass^' 

plo*>^At  r.-i  hai#.-t.iuil«  a  clust.:r  of  v;ravo«.  whcr-  vn".'  Ip- 

;i--^i      Vr      -Hi...  hul'itns  who'ilt  .iufKMi  *b(.- islamlfroM  ■  •■und- 

^v-,^  .    -  vK'it-jVoulJ  atteiupt  to  lU'-nvilx*  oi.  >!iy  way 

v?" tD\    flilft   t:i.(Mi;.ior!.«:9S.     It  th  .,!;»  (;*;*o:uIc4  portion  oi 
tU    V  lA'.^i^^-twcuty^three  luD'^  •'«{»,  lUid  fnim  I'uvc  t- 
•ium      :f^        -  iJ  -urryUlK^'^a  -.vitli  hill?,  wlii  J:  ul,ouiul  in  uliuodt 
,.;5^.;,   X  aixfcy  '-■    gAD;c,   i  "■  '"'«•  P;-'ivciij,  ubouinUnK   in 

'valuabiv  ..jpUti:.^  s»nii  o^irticlian,. ;  llw  »^h?.i  is  olwu.  uud  very 
a€«p. -iini  i.  yklda  tW  v>r^  l.fst  -f  tirtli  in  great  nhn-.-iuncp. 
M^'  first  Lv.'  Oi  i.JKi-  Pepiu  (Ittiih  1  ktuw  I.'jW  it  ;-:»r.o  !>,y 
♦  hut  uafOo!)  jra*!  un  -v  -.f  {.!••-  ."  ,^',  charming  t^voaiii^rs  that  i 
■«vcr  v.ii,i..H5orl,  Thi;  cloaulovs  sky  was  stutUlf;'!  witli  sIju--,  nail 
Ihij  moon  mailed  upward  an'l  onward  with  ani'ncomnion  beauty, 
;v*»  a'  pr-ud  of  liic  wdderjiCbs  av»-  1''  she  ^aa  then  flo-Mtiii^^  with 
iw*>  k«.w.«;-.  I  •'!•  t.'>urs  did  I  sit  mu.'jifjii^  ujion  tlic  r-^'.^t'TTi  sl^yr  . 
■,.r:v  xU'1  unih'Xy  wheu'.o  f  oouUl  diftceii'.  rio  Icsi  tiian  .i.wt'"''!' 
j,safe  !>r  ?>Ur-  '•■.•■'niiig  ill  aolitudo  against  the  Loriv^nn.  ''Th< 
;;...!•/  :>&•:  «:»4  .j«wt  as  a  nun,  bv :.  • 'tfe**  ■wiihadorati' lu'  ''*!  ■ 
.,.i,t,*f  «(i^  t«i«;>wt  ft  rijjide,  and  reaectfu  in  its  puro  I'Dsoii- 
if¥i>y;  ^r*-.  i*ft.iV  Oio  inocu"a3  if  del^vminid  ihn!^^  if,  .^hou) "  ^ 
i'  .uaiS    .r-?>-,  '.^d  it  with  a  -ur  of  gokl.    The  .u\y  s^uuiju- 

thiit  tr'^.-iMva  i^  ^  iv'  *i3f  wore  tho  bo-it  of  .m  owl,  iht>  -"f-i'  of  : 
looij,  «^^  i.^.  hni>  iV^sid  i^c  msect  \V'»  ■ '.    f  hwko-).  ami  wonder^  ^<. 


uu' 


■'.  O 


■■.^^h  Uu  jo:vat,  uuti  tiiw  dew  ./.iis  liv.ivv  ard  <: 


IM 


a'ly  '■."•''  -!''-''• 

<y:k£.     Tt  1* 

ibe  largest 

i    ,;,  in-,  ]jvvn 
on  a  gi  ;vs>5^' 

frovi  "  "und' 

ft  01.  mjv  '\<'!^y 

iR»l  in  iiUviudt, 
uboumlini;  in 

,t  fitMndmiCt", 
r  it  oamo   !\Y 

Ouiliitb  tluit    1 

fiih  sliiv^,  and 
iiiraon  bctiury; 

fior.dst.^  \\'itl4 
eastern  s^yr  % 

tliaa   3i-vtft''i' 

*!  'I'll. 

s  puro  IjnaoB' 
.t  u,  skoid'   :- 
ric  '>idy  souij't" 
,  t,ht»  tcr.i'  oi'  : 
aiid  wofidoi'i-'. 
V.1VY  and  ofsla 


m 


lib. 


if 


'i' 


■■-/ 


'■m'iid 


THE  ALPINE  REOIOK. 


81 


It  was  while  tarrying  at  this  lake,  that  the  captain  of  our 
steamer  was  honored  by  a  visit  from  Wabashaw,  or  Red  Leaf, 
the  head  chief  of  the  Sioux  nation.  He  was  attended  by  seve- 
ral of  his  counsellors,  and  in  all  his  movements  had  the  bear- 
ing of  a  proud  prince.  He  is  a  young  man,  and  said  to  be  a 
brave  and  eminently  successful  warrior.  Our  captain  treated 
him  to  wine,  and  I  gave  him  a  present  of  tobacco.  The  captain 
was  so  pleased  with  the  natural  curiosity,  as  he  called  the  chief, 
that  he  summoned  all  his  lady  passengers  tp  obtain  a  glimpse. 
The  ladies  soon  made  their  appearance,  and  while  staring  at 
the  chief,  now  laughing,  and  now  laying  their  hands  upon  his 
ornaments,  a  most  ferocious  glance  all  at  once  shot  from  his 
eye,  and  uttering  a  scornful  speech,  he  bolted  from  the  ring  of 
impudent  spectators.  The  cause  of  this  singular  movement 
was,  that  it  is  considered  disgraceful  f«r  a  Sioux  chief  to  be 
seen  in  company  of  women,  or  to  be  spoken  to  and  stared  upon 
by  them.  The  only  person  whose  hand  he  would  take  on  going 
ashore  was  mine ;  and  when  I  happened  to  meet  this  chief  on 
a  subsequent  occasion,  he  treated  mo  with  marked  attention, 
and  presented  me  with  a  handsome  pipe. 

At  the  time  that  I  visited  Lake  Pepin,  there  were  quite  a  num- 
ber of  Sioux  Indians  encamped  upon  its  shores.  Among  the  lodges 
which  I  visited  was  that  of  a  woman,  nine  years  of  age  and  a 
widow.  She  looked  exceedingly  wretched,  but  was  so  intelli- 
gent and  amiable  that  I  almost  fell  in  love  with  the  old  antedi- 
luvian. I  cannot  give  the  whole  of  her  long  story,  for  it  was 
not  all  translated  to  me,  but  an  idea  of  its  character  may  be 
obtained  from  the  following  episode,  which  I  listened  to,  seated 
by  her  side,  and  that  of  her  only  descendant — a  handsome  boy. 
Her  attention  had  been  directed  to  our  steamer,  which  lay 
moored  a  short  distance  off,  when  she  suddenly  broke  out  with 
the  following : — "  How  rapidly  does  time  fly !  A  short  time  ago 
the  light  canoe  was  the  only  thing  that  glided  upon  this  lake ; 
but  now  we  often  hear  the  groaning  of  the  great  fire-vessel,  as 
it  sweeps  along  like  an  angry  deer.  The  white  man's  conduct 
appears  strange.  I  cannot  understand  its  purpose.  0, 1  am 
an  old  woman  and  a  fool ! 


MWlti. 


!'■       !! 


82 


THE  ALPINE  REGION. 


"  Many,  very  many  have  been  my  trials.  Thirty  years  has 
my  husjjand  been  dead.  Eight  brave  sons  have  I  had,  but  they 
•were  all  killed  in  battles  with  the  Chipptways.  I  also  had  two 
daughters,  who  were  like  the  doci  of  the  prairie,  but  the  Great 
Spirit  has  long  since  taken  them  to  the  happy  land.  My  only 
relative,  now  living,  is  this  boy.  0,  I  am  an  old  woman,  and 
have  ao  business  to  live ! 

"  But  I  will  not  despair.  The  Great  Spirit  is  at  my  fireside, 
and  has  given  me.  a  helper  in  the  dark  evening  of  my  days. 
This  boy-hunter  supplies  me  with  food.  His  arrow  never  fails, 
and  the  winds  always  tell  him  where  to  find  the  sweet  fish.  He 
paddles  my  canoe,  he  brings  me  wood  for  my  fire,  and  he  sleeps 
by  my  side  in  my  comfortable  lodge.  0,  I  am  an  old  woman  ! 
but  what  is  there  in  the  world  that  I  need,  and  cannot 
obtain?"  • 

May  the  smiles  of  Providence  rest  upon  this  mother  of  a 
great  nation,  whose  glory  is  personified  in  ^'er  feeble  and  de- 
crepit form. 

The  most  romantic  legend,  however,  associated  with  the  Mis- 
sissippi Horicon,  is  the  oft-repeated  story  of  Winona.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  a  chief,  and  lived  about  one  hundred  years  ago. 
She  was  exceedingly  beautiful,  and  universally  beloved.  Her 
father  had  promised  her  hand  to  a  favorite  warrior,  but  her 
heart  had  been  pledged  to  another,  not  less  brave,  but  more 
noble  and  youthful.  For  many  months  she  would  not  listen  to 
the  wishes  of  her  father ;  but  his  sterner  nature  was  roused, 
and  he  vowed  that  she  must  marry  the  object  of  his  choice. 
Weeks  passed  on,  and  she  knew  that  she  must  yield.  Nightly 
did  she  meet  her  accepted  lover,  but  always  talked  to  him  of 
the  Spirit  Land,  as  if  she  had  been  a  queen  of  that  fantastic 
realm.  The  marriage-night  had  been  appointed,  and  the  chief 
had  proclaimed  a  feast.  To  all  outward  appearance  a  change  sud- 
denly came  over  the  daughter's  mind,  and  she  smiled  and  talked 
like  one  about  to  be  made  a  happy  bride.  Among  the  delica- 
cies that  were  to  be  eaten  on  the  occasion,  was  a  certain  berry 
that  was  found  in  great  perfection  upon  a  certain  hill  or  bluff. 
It  was  a  pleasant  summer  afternoon,  and  all  the  female  friends 


THE  ALPINE  REGION. 


33 


of  Winona,  accompanied  by  herself,  were  picking  the  desired 
berries. 

Carelessly  did  they  all  wander  up  the  hill-side,  while  an  occa- 
sional laugh  would  ring  .upon  the  air ;  but  Winona  was  only 
seen  to  smile,  for  (though  those  loving  friends  Irnew  it  not)  her 
heart  was  darkened  by  many  a  strange  shadow.     Carelessly  did 
the  berry-gatherers  wander  on ;  when  all  at  once  a  low  melan- 
choly song  fell  upon  their  ears,  and  lo !  upon  the  very  edge  of 
a  beetling  precipice  stood  the  form  cf  the  much  loved  Winona. 
Her  song  was  death-like,  and  when  her  companions  were  in- 
tuitively convinced  of  the  contemplated  deed,  the^  were  stupi- 
:  fied  with  horror.     Winona  motioned  them  to  keep  back,  while 
[her  song  increased  until  it  became  a  Trail.     The  burthen  of  it 


"  Parewer.,  sisters : — 
I  am  going  to  the  Spirit  Land  ; 
My  warrior  wil!  come  afler  iiie, 
And  we  shall  be  blessed." 

One  moment  more,  and  Winona,  the  pride  of  all  the  Indian 
villages  on  Lake  Pepin,  was  deeply  buried  in  its  clear  cold 
I  bosom.  And  this  is  the  story  that  hallows  the  loftiest  peak  of 
ithis  lake.  I  obtained  it,  as  here  related,  from  one  of  her  kin- 
red,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  true.     As  to  Winona's  warrior,  it 

said  that  he  lived  for  many  years  a  hermit,  and  finally  died 

madman.     So  runneth  many  a  song  of  life. 


Hill  Hi » 


;- 


h'iST^'^U  :^fc;?   iHvJinM    <i-V)tr    \[m'}'d  \''i  jr.- 


jliyuiuip'l'r 


,  r,',. 


V.  .  -  1 


jil   •   ;(•(   .;.i«  I  ;■;(>• 


M     .14-1     /I..' 


I  I 


n'l';'!it?!f*  it 


:  i 


l;l 


S'fs'.  '^'1 


ill 
km 


I,: 


'-^"'i^::t 


'm 


I 


>4 


RED  WING  VILLAGE. 


'>   (Hi 


1)'.  •.  f,  .1-  ii> 


The  scenery  between  Lake  Pepin  and  the  Saint  Croix  is 
not  as  lofty  nor  as  picturesque  as  that  we  have  already  passed, 
but  its  interest  is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  greater  number  of 
Indians  that  we  here  meet.  The  Red  Wing  village  is  nearly 
iridway  between  the  two  lakes  mentioned,  and  contains  about 
six  hundred  souls.  A  short  distance  from  this  place  are  two 
isolated  moiintains,  whence  may  be  seen  a  magnificent  pano- 
rama of  tl'.c  wi/uerness,  and  when  viewed  at  sunset  presents 
more  the  appearance  of  dream-land  than  reality.  These  moun- 
tains fiom  time  immemorial  have  been  used  as  the  oltars  where 
Indian  war  parties  have  offered  up  their  sacrifices  pievious  to 
going  to  battle.  At  the  present  time,  however,  their  only  in- 
habitants arc  rattlesnakes,  -.vhich  slumber  on  their  sunny  slopes 
or  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  during  the  long  summer.  And 
thus  is  it  throughout  the  world,  in  the  wilderness  as  well  as  the 
city,  death  and  the  beautiful  are  ever  linked  together  in  an  un- 
broken brotherhood. 

I  only  remained  at  the  Red  Wing  village  one  night,  but  such 
a  night  I  hope  never  to  pass  again.  An  outcast  of  a  trader 
had  furnished  the  Indians  with  "fire-water,"  and  the  whole 
po°sc  of  them  were  quite  mad,  for  spirituous  liquor  always 
makes  the  poor  Indian  miserably  crazy.  For  want  of  a 
better  place,  I  had  to  sleep  in  the  cabin  of  this  very  trader. 
My  bed  was  on  the  floor,  while  my  host  and  his  family  occupied 
a  couple  of  beds  in  opposite  corners  of  the  only  room  in  the 
house.  And  such  horrible  yelling  and  screaming  as  I  heard 
during  the  first  half  of  that  night,  I  can  never  forget-     The 


ilf: 


:i 


RBD  WING  VILLAGE. 


80 


noises  were  unearthly  and  devilish.  Now,  you  might  hear  the 
Clashing  of  knives,  as  some  of  the  more  desperate  spirits  came 
together  in  a  fight ;  and  now  you  might  hear  the  sobbings  and 
moanings  of  a  miserable  woman,  as  she  exposed  and  mutilated 
her  bovly,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  a  dead  husband  or  child. 

Bui  there  was  one  incident  which  made  my  hair  stand  out 
like  the  quills  of  the  porcupine.  I  should  premise  that  the  few 
white  people  of  the  wilderness  never  think  of  locking  their 
doors  at  night ;  and  also  that  the  Indians  of  this  1  a  gion  claim 
it  as  a  privilege  to  enter  and  depart  from  your  cabin  whenever 
they  please,  and  their  intrusions  are  always  looked  upon  a.A 
matters  of  course.  It  was  somewhat  after  midnight,  and  the 
yelling  of  the  savages  had  partly  subsided.  .1  had  just  fallen 
into  a  doze,  when  I  was  startled  by  the  stealthy  opening  of  our 
cabin  door  and  the  tread  of  a  muffled  footstep.  It  was  intensely 
dark,  but  I  knew  it  was  an  Indian,  and  thought  that  somebody 
was  about  to  be  murdered.  The  object  in  the  room  made  only 
noise  enough  to  rack  my  brain,  and  then  was  perfectly  still.  I 
listened,  and  with  hardly  a  breath  in  my  body,  continued  to 
listen,  until  I  finally  slept,  and  my  dreams  were  of  blood,  and 
blood  only.  The  first  peep  of  day,  however,  awakencfl  me, 
when  I  saw  directly  at  my  side,  flat  on  the  floor,  a  huge 
Indian,  breathing  in  his  deep  slumber  like  a  porpoise.  The 
first  intelligence  that  I  heard  on  going  out  of  the  door  was,  that 
one  Indian  had  been  killed  dviring  the  night,  and  that  another 
was  at,  that  moment  in  the  agohies  of  death.  As  may  be  sup- 
posed, I  left  the  Red  Wing  village  with  pleasure. 

Lake  Saint  Croix  empties  into  the  Mississippi,  and  its  prin- 
cipal inlet  is  a  river  of  the  same  name  whi  jh  rises  in  the  vicinity 
of  Lake  Superior.  This  is  the  valley  through  which  the  traders 
and  Indians  have  been  in  the  habit  of  passing,  for  a  century,  on 
their  way  from  the  western  prairies  to  Lake  Superior,  and  from 
the  lake  back  again  to  the  prairies.  The  river  has  one  water- 
fall of  uncommon  beauty.  The  lake  is  about  twenty-five  miles 
long,  from  two  to  five  wide,  and  surrounded  with  charming 
scenery.  The  water  is  clear,  but  of  a  rich  brown  color,  and 
well  supplied  with  fish,  of  which  trout  are  the  most  abundant. 


Minjii!. 


I:' 


lit! 


rMjiniii;;!!" 


!-..ii|*'N 


":it'; 


36 


RED  WING  VILLAGE. 


At  the  outlet  of  this  lake,  I  visited  another  encampment  of 
the  Sioux  or  Dacotah  In<lians,  where  I  saw  a  noted  chief, 
named  Little  Crow.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  hut  both  his 
arms  had  recently  been  broken  by  a  rifle  ball,  which  was  shot 
by  one  of  his  own  brothers, — who  was  envious  of  his  station  aa 
chief.  As  a  punishment  for  his  wickedness.  Little  Crow  had 
ordered  four  bullets  to  be  fired  at  his  brother,  which  of  course 
numbered  him  with  the  dead.  I  saw  his  grave,  and  his  wife 
wailing  over  it,  like  one  sorrowing  without  hope. 

From  Lake  Saint  Croix  to  the  Sairt  Peter's  River,  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi  are  steep,  and  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  height.  The  river  is  here  studded  with  islands 
whose  shadowy  recesses  are  cool  during  the  hottest  weather  ; 
and  I  imagine  a  more  delightful  region  for  the  botanist  to  ram- 
ble cannot  be  elsewhere  found.  The  water  is  clear  as  crystal, 
and  its  bosom  is  generally  covered  with  water-fowl,  from  the 
graceful  snow-white  swan  to  the  mallard  and  wood-duck.  Iso- 
lated Indian  wigwau:  3  are  frequently  seen  here,  pitched  on  the 
margin  of  the  stream,  and  at  the  foot  of  vine-covered  preci- 
pices. 

.  But  there  are  three  landscape  views  connected  with  this  por- 
tion of  the  Mississippi,  which  I  thought  magnificent.  I  witnessed 
them  all  during  a  single  afternoon,  and  in  the  light  of  a  mellow 
sunshine.  The  first  was  of  a  rolling  prairie  that  faded  away  to 
the  western  sky,  until  its  outline  was  lost  in  the  hazy  atmos- 
phere. Not  a  solitary  tree  did  I  behold,  but  a  sea  of  grass, 
that  was  delightfully  relieved  with  flowers  of  every  variety  of 
shape  and  color.  Occasionally  a  breeze  would  puss  across  the 
scene,  causing  unnumbered  tiny  billows  to  quiver  over  the  sur- 
face of  mightier  ones,  which  seemed  to  be  careering  onward  to 
some  unknown  shore.  Covering  the  foreground  of  this  picture 
might  be  seen  an  immense  flock  of  grouse,  feeding,  or  chasing 
each  other  in  sport ;  and  then,  an  occasional  prairie  squirrel  as 
it  sat  at  the  entrance  of  its  hole;  while  in  the  jiiddle  distance 
a  nhber  wolf  glided  over  one  of  the  ridges  of  the  prauio,  with 
his  %:m  pictured  against  the  sky.  The  lone  lost  feeling  which 
pos6  ,ssed  me,  when  I  thought  of  the  great  prairie-world  then 


J?S 


iiliii;:i 


RED  WING  VILLAGE. 


87 


impment  of 
oted  chief, 
lit  both  his 
ch  was  shot 
is  station  aa 
Ic  Crow  had 
sh  of  course 
ind  his  wife 

River,  the 

liundred  and 
with  islands 
est  weather  ; 
anist  to  ram- 
ir  as  crystal, 
wl,  from  the 
1-duck.  Iso- 
itched  on  the 
overcd  preci- 

with  this  por- 
I  witnessed 
it  of  a  mellow 
faded  away  to 
e  hazy  atmos- 
sea  of  grass, 
cry  variety  of 
;dss  across  the 
•  over  the  sur- 
inc  onward  to 
of  this  picture 
ng,  or  chasing 
irie  squirrel  as 
liddlo  distance 
M  prauie,  with 
t  feeling  which 
ric-world  then 


lying  before  me,  I  cannot  describe ;  it  was  composed  of  delight 
and  melancholy,  of  confidence  and  fear. 

Another  picture  which  I  witnessed  from  a  commanding  hill 
top,  was  an  untrodder<  nlderness  of  woods,  reaching  to  the  ex- 
treme horizon  on  the  north.  Owing  to  my  elevated  position 
the  forest-world  appeared  level,  and,  excepting  one  barren 
ledge,  was  without  an  object  to  Uiir  the  monotony  of  the  scene. 
On  that  ledge,  however,  with  the  aid  of  my  glass,  I  could  just 
discern  the  dead  body  of  some  animal,  with  a  black  bear  re- 
clining at  its  bide,  as  if  sated  with  his  feast ;  while  in  his 
neigh!>orhoo(l  were  standing  some  thirty  crows  in  a  state  of  de- 
lightful anticipation. 

The  other  scene  alluded  to  was  witnessed  from  the  lofty  bluff 
that  fronts  the  mouth  of  the  Saint  Peter's  River.  Far  beneath 
my  feet  glided  the  majestic  Mississippi; — on  my  right  stood 
the  handsome  and  commanding  barracks  of  Fort  Snelling,  sur- 
mounted by  the  stars  nnrl  -^tripes;  on  my  left,  the  naked  peak 
of  the  Pilot  s  Nob,  with  a  cluster  of  trading-houses  at  its  base ; 
directly  before  me,  winding  away  like  a  mighty  seruent  between 
a  multitude  of  islands,  lay  the  deep  and  turbid  Saint  Peter's 
River ;  and  far  beyond — far  as  the  eye  couid  reach — the  prairie 
land,  whose  western  boundary  is  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

The  landscape  was  indeed  glorious,  and  there  was  something 
to  gratify  my  national  pride  in  the  flag  that  fluttered  in  the 
breeze ;  but  when  I  thought  of  the  buaineaa  of  that  Fort,  and 
t\\e  end  for  which  the  people  of  the  hamlet  were  living  in  the 
wilderness,  the  poetry  of  the  scene  was  marred,  and  I  ^onged  to 
dive  still  deeper  in  the  wild  world  which  reposed  so  peacefully 
before  me. 


« 


Mli. 


THE  FALLS  OF  SAINT  ANTHONY. 


■  u\f 


''iEi'' 


■  li. 


St  il|*"fm) 


,.  •  'fljf'iil;' 

'''■''itiSii;" 


The  hamlet  of  Saint  Peter  is  at  the  mouth  of  the* Saint 
Peter's  River,  at  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation  on  the 
Mississippi.  My  sojourn  here  has  been  interesting  from  many 
circum^itances.  I  feel  that  I  am  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the 
civilized  world,  and  that  all  beyond,  to  the  ordinary  traveller, 
is  a  mysterious  wilderness ;  and  every  object  which  attracts 
my  attention  is  made  doubly  entertaining  by  the  polite  atten- 
tions I  receive  from  several  gentlemen  connected  with  Fort 
Snelling  and  the  Fur  Company. 

In  this  vicinity  I  first  saw  an  extensive  encampment  of  Sioux 
or  Dacotah  Indians,  M'ho  had,  within  six  miles  of  the  Fort,  no 
less  than  three  large  villages.  This,  as  is  well  known,  is  one 
of  the  most  peculiar  and  savage  tribes  of  the  northwest,  and 
as  I  happen  to  be  here  during  their  gala  season,  I  have  had 
an  opportunity  of  being  present  at  some  of  their  feasts  and 
games. 

On  one  occasion  it  was  announced  throughout  the  village 
that  the  Indians  were  to  have  a  Dog  Feast,  in  which  none  but 
the  bravest  and  most  distinguished  of  the  warriors  are  allowed 
to  participate.  The  idea  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  this  rite  is, 
that  by  eating  of  a  dog's  liver  the  heart  is  made  strong.  The 
feast  took  place  on  the  open  prairie,  in  the  afternoon,  and  was 
attended  by  about  one  hundred  men,  while  there  must  have 
been  a  thousand  spectators.  The  first  step  in  the  ceremony 
was  for  the  Indians  to  seat  themselves  in  a  circle  around  a 
large  pole,  and  devote  a  few  moments  to  smoking.  Their  only 
article  of  clothing  was  the  clout,  and  their  only  weapon  a  long 


'^ 


M 


m- 


TBE  FALLS  OF  SAINT  ANTHONY. 


39 


iNY. 


)f  the*  Saint 
tion  on  the 
1  from  many 
verge  of  the 
iry  trareUcr, 
hich  attracts 
polite  attcn- 
ed  with  Fort 

nent  of  Sioux 
the  Fort,  no 
known,  is  one 
orthwest,  and 
n,  I  have  had 
;ir  feasts  and 

ut  the  village 

rhich  none  hut 

rs  are  allowed 

of  this  rite  is, 

strong.  The 
noon,  and  was 
ere  must  have 

the  ceremony 
ircle  around  a 
Their  only 
weapon  a  long 


g 


knife,  while  their  heads  were  decorated  with  death-trophies, 
and  their  bodies  encircled  by  a  belt  from  which  hung  all  the 
scalps  the  wearers  had  taken.  Suddenly  a  whoop  was  given, 
and  the  whole  party  commenced  dancing  to  the  monotonous 
music  of  a  drum.  Then  broke  upon  the  ear  the  howl,  and  in  a 
moment  more  the  dying  groan  of  a  dog  from  without  the  circle 
of  dancers.  The  carcass  vtas  thrown  into  their  midst  by  a 
woman.  A  chorus  of  deaVening  yells  resounded  through  the 
air,  the  dog  was  immediately  opened,  his  liver  taken  out,  sus- 
pended to  the  pole  by  a  string,  and  the  dance  resumed.  A 
moment  had  hardly  elapsed,  however,  before  the  dancers,  one 
after  another,  stepped  up  and  took  a  bite  of  the  yet  warm  and 
quivering  liver.  Soon  as  this  was  all  eaten,  another  dog  was 
thrown  into  the  ring,  and  the  same  horrible  ceremony  repeated ; 
and  so  they  continued  until  the  carcasses  of  several  dogs  were 
lying  at  the  foot  of  the  pole  in  the  centre  of  the  dancing  crowd. 
Another  human  howl  ascended  tc  the  sky,  and  the  feast  was 
ended.  All  the  while  the  river  flowed  peacefully  onvfard, 
and  the  mellow  sunlight  bathed  in  its  own  hues  the  illimitable 
prairie. 

I  have  also  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  in  this  place 

ihe  Indian  mode  of  playing  ball.     There  is  nothing  exclusive 

this  game,  and  every  male  Indian  who  is  sufficiently  active 

ay  take  a  part  therein.  It  sometimes  lasts  for  several  days, 
and  when  I  witnessed  it,  was  played  by  two  companies  or  bands, 
of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  individuals  each.  The  balls  used 
are  formed  of  a  deer-skin  bag,  stuffed  with  the  hair  of  that  ani- 
mal and  sewed  with  its  sinews.  The  clubs  are  generally  three 
feet  long,  and  have  at  the  lower  end  a  sinewy  netting,  suffi- 
ciently  large  to  hold  the  ball,  and  each  player  is  furnished  with 
one  of  these  clubs.  With  tjiese  they  catch  and  throw  the  ball, 
and  though  they  are  not  allowed  to  touch  it  with  their  hands, 
it  is  sometimes  kept  from  once  touching  the  ground  for  a  whole 
afternoon.  The  station  of  each  party  is  marked  by  a  pole,  on 
a  line  with  which  the  players  stand,  just  before  beginning  the 
[game.  The  poles  are  usually  about  five  hundred  yards  apart. 
I  The  ball  first  makes  its  appearance  midway  between  the  par* 


hK- 


i::  ;:•"■•■  I 


I  Hi  i,. 


"i'  u4i 


'li'?ii'ii 


i« 


!i 


luHIII 


^!i3li';: 


40 


THE  PALLS  OP  SAINT  ANTHONT, 


ties,  to  which  point  a  most  furious  rush  is  made,  and  the  object 
to  bo  attained  'm,  for  the  player  to  t'-row  the  ball  outside  his 
own  line  of  standing. 

The  Olympic  beauty  of  this  game  is  beyond  all  praise.  It 
calls  into  active  exercise  every  muscle  of  the  human  frame,  and 
brings  into  bold  relief  the  supple  and  athletic  forms  of  perhaps 
the  best  built  people  in  the  world.  The  only  ornaments  worn 
are  of  paint  and  marked  all  over  the  body,  which,  with  the 
usual  exception,  is  entirely  naked.  At  one  time  a  figure  will 
rivet  your  attention  similar  to  the  Apollo  Belvidcre,  and  at 
onother,  you  will  be  startled  by  the  surpassing  elegance  of  a 
Mercury.  The  only  music  that  accompanies  the  game  is  a  cho- 
rus of  wild  clear  laughter.  The  only  drawbaci:  connected  with  it 
is  the  danger  of  getting  your  legs  broken,  or  the  breath  knocked 
out  of  your  body,  which  are  calamities  that  frequently  happen. 

There  arc  not  many  particulars  with  regard  to  manners  and 
habits  wherein  the  Sioux  Indians  differ  from  their  surrounding 
brethren.  Living,  as  they  mostly  do,  in  a  vast  prairie  region, 
their  favorite  and  principal  mode  of  travelling  is  on  horseback; 
and  away  from  the  larger  rivers,  you  will  find  them  possessed 
of  the  finest  horses,  which  they  love  and  protect  with  true  Ara- 
bian affection.  They  arc  of  course  admirable  horsemen,  and 
very  expert  in  hunting  the  buffalo.  They  arc  cruel  and  vin- 
dictive towards  their  enemies,  and  have,  from  time  immemorial, 
been  at  war  with  their  neighbors  of  the  north  and  west ;  and 
their  hatred  of  the  white  man  seems  to  be  a  cherished  emotion 
of  their  nature.  Physically  speaking,  they  arc  a  noble  race  of 
men  and  women,  but  universally  considered  as  the  Ishmaelites 
of  the  wilderness.  Speaking  of  these  Indians,  reminds  me  of 
their  pictorial  historian,  Capt.  Seth  Eastman.  This  gentleman 
is  an  officer  in  the  army,  and  an  artist  of  ability.  He  is  a 
native  of  Maine,  has  been  in  the  service  about  eighteen  years, 
and  stationed  at  Fort  Snelling  for  the  last  five.  All  his  lei- 
sure time  has  been  devoted  to  the  study  of  Indian  character, 
and  the  portraying  upon  canvass  of  their  manners  and  customs, 
and  the  more  important  fragments  of  their  history.  The  Sioux 
tribes  have  attracted  the  most  of  his  attention,    although 


•,i 


it  s: 


VI 


Si      '^'^1'. 


>''ii. 


THE  FALLS  OF  SAINT  ANTHONY. 


41 


d  the  object 
outside  his 

praise.     It 
1  frame,  and 
.8  of  perhaps 
amenta  worn 
ich,  with  the 
a  figure  will 
iderc,  and  at 
ileganco  of  a 
;aine  is  a  cho- 
nected  with  it 
rcath  knocked 
jntly  happen. 

manners  and 
r  surrounding 
irairic  region, 
on  horseback ; 
hem  possessed 
with  true  Ara- 
horscmen,  and 
cruel  and  vin- 
nc  immemorial, 
and  west;  and 
rishcd  emotion 
a  noble  race  of 
the  Ishmaelites 
reminds  me  of 
This  gentleman 
jility.     He  is  a 
eighteen  years, 
e.     All  his  lei- 
idian  character, 
ers  and  customs, 
ory.     The  Sioux 
ntion,    although 


''M 


',) 


lie  has  not  neglected  the  Chippowas,  and  ho  has  done  much 
to  make  us  acquainted  with  the  Sominoles  of  Florida,  where 
he  was,  formerly,  stationed  for  several  years.  Excepting 
a  few,  which  he  has  occasionally  presented  to  his  friends, 
all  that  ho  ever  painted  are  now  in  his  possession,  and  it  was 
ray  good  fortune  to  spend  many  agreeable  hours  admiring  their 
beanties.  The  collection  now  numbers  about  four  hundred 
pieces,  comprising  every  variety  of  scenes,  from  the  grand 
Medicine  Dance  to  the  singular  and  affecting  Indian  Grave. 
When  the  extent  and  character  of  this  Indian  gallery  are  con- 
sidered, it  must  be  acknowledged  the  most  valuable  in  the 
country,  not  even  excepting  that  of  George  Catlin.  But  what 
adds  greatly  to  the  interest  called  forth  by  these  pictures  is  the 
«se  to  which  they  are  to  be  applied.  Instead  of  being  used  as 
a  travelling  exhibition  to  accumulate  gold,  this  gallery  is  to  bo 
presented  to  a  distinguished  college,  from  which  the  artist  will 
only  demand  the  education  of  his  children.  There  is  something 
in  this  movement  so  foreign  to  the  sordid  passion  of  our  age, 
and  so  characteristic  of  the  true  spirit  of  art,  that  the  heart  is 
thrilled  with  pleasure  as  we  remember  the  Americnn  soldier* 
artist  of  the  wilderness. 

I  have  also  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  at  this  point  M.  La- 
iiaarre  Piquo,  the  distinguished  French  natuntlist  fiom  Paris. 
!fie  has  been  in  the  Indian  country  upwards  of  a  year,  and  is 
;o  remain  some  months  longer.  He  is  on  a  professional  tour, 
collecting  specimens  in  every  department  of  natural  history, 
and  for  that  purpose  is  constantly  wandering  along  the  rivers, 
[fthrough  the  woods,  and  over  the  prairies  of  the  north-west, 
with  no  companions  but  Half-breeds  or  Indians.  He  seems  to 
be  a  passionate  lover  of  his  science,  and  the  appearance  of  his 
temporary  store-room  or  museum  is  unique  and  interesting. 
Here,  an  immense  buffalo  stares  at  you  with  its  glassy  eyes, 
while  just  above  itj  pinned  to  the  wall,  may  be  seen  a  collection 
of  curious  beetles,  butterflies,  and  other  insects ;  then  an  elk 
and  a  deer  will  display  their  graceful  forms,  while  at  their  feet 
will  be  coiled  up  the  rattlesnake,  the  adder,  and  other  frightful 
serpents ;  here  the  otter,  the  beaver,  the  fox,  the  wolf,  the  bear, 


iMMIIt  * 


\ 


p-m^ 


i     ':^il| 


JIt'll 


m 


'ii!*"Ih((, 

film 


41  THE  FALLS  OP  SAINT  ANTBORt. 

and  other  native  animals ;  there  a  complete  flock  of  Trob-foote<] 
creatures,  from  the  wild  swan  and  pelican,  to  the  common 
duck ;  hero  an  eagle  and  hawk,  a  partridge  and  scarlet-bird ', 
and  there,  embalmed  in  spirit,  a  tast  tariety  of  curious  reptiles. 
M.  Lamarre  Piquo  belongs  to  that  honorable  class  of  scho^ 
lars,  whose  labors  tend  to  doTolop  the  resources  of  onr  country, 
and  among  whom  we  And  such  men  as  Wilson,  Audubon,  Silli- 
man,  and  Houghton. 

Among  the  natural  beauties  associated  with  St.  Peter  ought 
not  to  be  forgotten  Carver's  Cave,  the  Cascade  Waterfall,  the 
Lakes,  and  the  Pilot's  Nob.  The  cave  is  about  four  miles  bc' 
low,  and  was  named  after  Carver,  who  was  the  first  white  man 
that  explored  it  thoroughly ;  its  Indian  name,  however,  was 
Wahon-teebe,  which  means  dwelling  of  the  Great  Spirit.  The 
entrance  to  it  is  on  the  brink  of  the  river,  five  feet  high  and 
about  twif^e  as  wide ;  and  the  arch  within  is  not  far  from  fifteen 
feet  high  and  twenty  broad.  The  bottom  is  covered  with  sand, 
which  slopes  down  to  a  lake  of  pure  water,  the  opposite  boun* 
dary  of  which  has  never  been  visited.  On  one  of  the  inner 
sides,  not  far  from  the  entrance,  are  quite  a  number  of  Indian 
hieroglyphics,  partly  covered  with  the  moss  of  by-gone  cen- 
turies. 

About  two  miles  north  of  St.  Peter  there  empties  into  the 
Mississippi  a  small  river,  the  parent  of  a  most  beautiful  water- 
fall, called  the  Laughing  Water.  The  stream  is  perhaps  fifty 
feet  wide,  and  aft'jr  a  wayward  passage  across  the  green  prui^ 
rie,  it  finally  comes  to  a  precipice  of  more  than  one  hundred 
feet  deep,  and  in  an  unbroken  sheet  discharges  its  translucent 
treasure  into  the  pool  below.  So  completely  hidden  by  a  mass 
of  foliage  is  this  fall,  that  you  would  pass  it  by  unnoticed,  were 
it  not  for  its  ever-murmuring  song,  and  the  clouds  of  ascending 
spray. 

The  Lakes  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Peter,  on  the  bosom 
of  the  prairie,  number  some  four  or  five,  the  most  conspicuous 
of  which  are  Harriet  and  Calhoun.  They  are  not  deep,  but 
clear,  abound  in  fish,  and  encircled  with  sand.  The  Pilot's 
Nob  18  a  grass-covered  peak,  commanding  a  magnificent  series 


THB  FALLS  OP  SAINT  ANTHONY. 


48 


f  veb-footcd 
the  common 
Bcarlct-bird } 
iouB  reptiles, 
lass  of  8cho^• 
'  onr  country, 
adubon,  Silli- 

.  Petor  ought 
^Vaterfall,  the 
four  miles  be- 
rst  white  man 
however,  was 
i  Spirit.     The 
feet  high  and 
"ar  from  fifteen 
•red  with  sand, 
opposite  boun- 

of  the  inner 
fiber  of  Indian 

by-gone  con- 

apties  into  the 
eautiful  water- 
is  perhaps  fifty 
the  green  prai- 
n  one  hundred 
its  translucent 
,dden  by  a  mass 
unnoticed,  were 
ids  of  ascending 

r,  on  the  bosom 
lost  conspicuous 
re  not  deep,  but 
,d.  The  Pilot'9 
agnificent  series 


of  views.  To  the  west  lies  a  boundless  prairie ;  to  the  north 
and  south  the  fantastic  valley  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  to  the 
east  a  wilderness  of  forest  and  prairie,  apparently  reaching  to 
the  shores  of  Michigan.  But  let  us  pass  on  '-o  the  Falls  of  St. 
Anthony,  which  arc  a  few  miles  above  St.  Peter. 

These  falls  are  more  famous  than  remarkable.  They  were 
first  visited  by  Father  Hennepin  in  1689,  who  gavo  them  their 
present  name,  out  of  respect  to  his  patron  saint.  Their  origi- 
nal name,  in  the  Sioux  language,  was  Owah-Mdhah,  meaning 
falling  water.  They  owe  their  reputation  princip'^Uy  to  the 
fact  that  they  "veto"  the  navigation  of  the  Upper  Riississipp*. 
Ihcy  are  surrounded  with  prairie,  and  therefore  easily  ap- 
Broached  from  every  direction.  The  river  here  is  perhaps  half 
p  mile  wide,  and  the  entire  height  of  the  fulls,  including  t('v! 
Upper  and  lower  rapids,  is  said  to  measure  some  twenty-fi\  5  oi 
ihirty  feet,  and  they  aro  consequently  without  an  imposing  fca- 
?>ure.  The  line  of  the  tails  is  nearly  straight,  but  broken  near 
the  centre  by  a  large  island,  and  just  below  this  arc  no  less 
than  seven  smaller  but  more  picturesque  islands,  which  are 
looked  down  upon  by  steep  bluffs  on  either  side  of  the  river, 
or  half  a  mile  before  the  waters  make  their  plunge,  they 
|lide  swiftly  across  a  slanting,  but  perfectly  flat  bed  of  rock ; 
d  after  they  have  reached  the  lower  level,  they  create  a  sheet 
ff  foam,  as  if  venting  their  wrath  upon  the  rocks  which  impede 
their  progress;  but  in  a  few  moments  they  nii,Vi,'',ir  themselves 
to  sleep,  and  then  glide  onward  in  peace  towuz<l  the  far  distant 
Ocean. 

These  falls  seem  to  be  the  grand  head  quarters  for  the  eagles 
ind  buBzards  of  the  wilderness,  wh'cb  congregate  here  in  great 
umbers.     At  one  moment  a  hungry  individual  might  bo  seen, 
ruggling  with  a  bass  or  trout,  directly  in  the  pure  foam ;  and 
en  another,  with  well-filled  crop,  high  up  in  heaven,  would 
floating  on  his  tireless  pinions.     At  another  time,  too,  you 
ght  see  a  crowd  of  them  hovering  over  the  body  of  some 
ating  animal  which  had  lost  its  life  while  attempting  to  cross 
e  upper  rapids,  and  exciting  indeed  was  the  conflict  between 
«se  warriors  of  the  air. 


!i;,;   I  '•■ 


,...,  f 


|r"  ""'■'"  "I'll! 


'iniiii' 


44 


THE  FALLS  OF  SAINT  ANTHONY. 


Associated  with  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  is  the  following 
Indian  legend.  A  Chippewa  woman,  the  daughter  of  a  chief, 
and  the  wife  of  a  warrior,  had  been  cruelly  treated  by  her 
faithless  husband.  She  was  not  beautiful,  but  young  and 
proud,  and  the  mother  of  a  lovely  daughter-child.  Goaded  to 
the  quick  by  repeated  wrongs,  she  finally  resolved  to  release 
herself  from  every  trouble,  and  her  child  from  evrl  friends,  by 
departing  for  the  Spirit  Land,  and  the  falls  were  to  be  the  gate- 
way to  that  promised  heaven.  It  was  an  Indian  summer  even- 
ing, and  nature  was  hushed  into  a  deep  repose.  The  mother 
and  her  child  were  alone  in  their  wigwam,  within  sight  and 
hearing  of  the  falls,  and  the  father  was  absent  on  a  hunting 
expedition.  The  mother  kissed  and  caressed  her  darling,  and 
then  dressed  it  with  all  the  ornaments  in  her  possession,  while 
from  her  own  person  she  rejected  every  article  of  clothing 
which  she  had  received  from  her  husband,  and  arrayed  herself 
in  richer  garments  which  she  had  made  with  her  own  hands. 
She  then  obtained  a  full-blown  lily,  and  crushing  its  petals  and 
breaking  its  stem,  she  placed  it  on  a  mat  in  the  centre  of  her 
lodge,  as  a  memorial  of  her  wrongs.  All  things  being  ready, 
she  seized  the  child,  hastened  to  the  river,  launched  her  frail 
canoe,  and  in  a  moment  more  wa°  floating  on  the  treacherous 
stream.  According  to  a  universal  Indian  custom,  she  sang  a 
wild  death  song, — for  a  moment  her  canoe  trembled  on  the 
brow  of  the  watery  precipice,  and  in  an  instant  more  the  mo- 
ther and  child  were  forever  lost  in  the  foam  below. 


■']     :.!' 


11-11' 


t !» 


Wit 


A   RIDE   ON   HORSEBACK. 


My  mode  of  travelling,  from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  to 

row-Wing  river,  was  on  horseback.     I  obtained  my  animal 

,  ^f  a  Frenchman,  who  accompanied  me  as  a  guide.     There 

was  no  regular  road  to  follow,  but  only  a  w^ell-beaten  trail, 

which  ran,  for  the  most  part,  along  the  eastern  bank  of  the 

4  Mississippi,  where  lie  a  succession  of  prairies  and  oak-openings. 

+  We  were  each  furnished  with  a  blanket,  a  small  stock  of  bread 

and  pork,  ammunition  and  a  gun.     Our  ponies  were  young 

nd  fleet,  and  mine  was  particularly  easy  and  graceful  in  his 

movements.     The  day  was  scorching  hot,  but  I  was  so  anxious 

0  proceed  that  I  ventured  out,  and  by  six  o'clock  we  were  on 

ur  winding  way. 

A  few  hours  had  elapsed  without  meeting  with  a  single 
idventure,  when  I  fixed  my  eyes  upon  my  gun,  (which  then 
teemed  to  be  about  six  times  as  heavy  as  when  we  startled,) 
nd  began  to  wonder  whether  I  was  not  in  a  fair  way  of  illus- 
rating  Dr.  Franklin's  story  of  the  whistle.  But  before  I  had 
chance  even  to  cast  a  look  behind,  I  was  startled  by  the 
eport  of  my  companion's  gun,  when  lo  !  just  in  the  shadow  of 
neighboring  thicket,  I  saw  a  large  buck  make  two  frightful 
caps  and  then  drop  to  the  earth  quite  dead.  In  a  very  few 
oments  the  two  hind  quarters  of  the  animal  were  enveloped 
n  his  hide,  and  strapped  to  my  friend's  saddle ;  the  tune  of 
y  intentions  was  changed,  and  after  taking  a  lunch  of  bread 
e  continued  on  our  journey. 

Our  route,  during  the  afternoon,  lay  over  a  portion  of  the 
M-airie  that  was  alive  with  grouse.     My  guide  considered  them 


Iliiiliai....-'""'^'' 


» ■ 


LmiiI 


|rr;!«:'ib,„|,j 


'■  li, 


:;.  ■  -.•  1 A} 


g';|i;!|i"i''i;«ii 


-V'  If''""'" 


'■    "l*"fs, 

'i    iOliili 


46 


A  RIDE  OK  HORSEBACK. 


unworthy  game  for  his  gun  and  skill,  and  left  me  to  enjoy  the 
sport  alone.  I  had  no  dog  to  point  them,  but  my  horse  was  so 
well  trained  to  shoot  from,  that  he  answered  very  well  as  a 
substitute.  I  only  had  to  ride  into  the  midst  of  a  flock,  frighten 
them,  bang  away,  and  dismount  and  pick  them  up.  And  this 
was  the  manner  in  which  I  spent  the  "lucid  intervals"  of  our 
frequent  "halts,"  by  way  of  resting  myself,  and  keeping  cool. 
At  sunset  I  had,  fastened  to  my  saddle,  upwards  of  thirty 
prairie  birds.  ...»..._-...      ;.,      ,  ^     ,        ■ 

We  were  now  on  the  margin  of  a  handsome  stream,  in  a 
natural  meadow,  and  as  wo  found  it  necessary  to  feed  and  rest 
our  horses,  we  gave  them  some  water,  hobbled  them,  and 
turned  them  at  large.  In  the  mean  time  we  amused  ourselves 
by  cooking  and  enjoying  a  portion  of  our  game,  and  that  was 
my  first  supper  in  the  wilderness.  We  roasted  our  meat  on 
one  stick,  while  just  above  it  with  another  stick  we  melted  a 
slice  of  pork,  for  the  sake  of  its  salty  drippings.  We  dis- 
patched a  comfortable  quantity  of  venison,  with  an  occasional 
mouthful  of  pork  and  bread,  and  used  the  brains,  legs,  and 
breast  of  a  grouse,  for  dessert.  Our  beverage  consisted  of 
the  purest  water,  which  we  quaffed  in  a  position  approaching 
to  the  horizontal,  though  our  heels  were  somewhat  nearer 
heaven  than  our  heads.  We  concluded  our  repast  with  an 
hour's  snooze,  and  by  the  light  of  a  thousand  stars,  saddled 
our  horses  once  more,  and  resumed  our  journey. 

It  was  a  cool,  calm,  cloudless  night,  and  we  were  the  only 
human  beings  on  a  prairie  which  appeared  to  be  illimitable.  I 
was  informed,  however,  that  a  little  speck  that  caught  my  eye 
far  to  the  westward,  was  the  cabin  of  an  Indian  trader,  whose 
nearest  neighbor,  with  one  exception,  was  fifty  miles  off;  also 
that  the  place  was  the  Mississippi  (which  we  had  left  for  a 
time)  and  was  known  as  Little  Rock.  As  I  was  a  good  deal 
fatigued,  the  poetry  of  that  unique  ride  did  not  make  much  of 
an  impression  upon  me.  I  tried  to  muster  a  little  sentiment 
on  the  occasion,  but  just  as  it  was  about  to  manifest  itself  in 
words,  my  head  would  suddenly  drop  upon  my  shoulder  heavier 
than  a  clod ;   and  like  a  feeble,  flickering  lamp,  my  senses 


A  ^':: 


;f! 


A  RIDE  ON  HORSEBACK. 


47 


e  to  enjoy  the 
r  horse  was  so 
ery  well  as  a 
flock,  frighten 
ip.  And  this 
jrvals"  of  our 
keejnng  cool. 
irds  of  thirty 

stream,  in  a 

feed  and  rest 
ed  them,  and 
used  ourselves 

and  that  was 
I  our  meat  on 
k  we  melted  a 
ngs.     We  dis- 

an  occasional 
ains,  legs,  and 
;e  consisted  of 
m  approaching 
ncwhat  nearer 
repast  with  an 

stars,  saddled 

wero  the  only 
illimitahle.  I 
caught  my  eye 
I  trader,  whose 
miles  off;  also 
had  left  for  a 
as  a  good  deal 
t  make  much  of 
little  sentiment 
mifest  itself  in 
houlder  heavier 
,mp,  my  senses 


would  revive,  only  to  he  lulled  again  into  a  doze  and  nod.  But 
this  sleepy  state  of  things  was  not  to  last  forever.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  we  discovered  directly  in  our  pathway  a  solitary 
wolf,  which  was  snuffing  the  ground  as  if  on  the  scent  of  some 
feeble  creature  that  would  afford  him  a  hearty  feast.  He  was  an 
ugly-looking  rascal,  and  called  forth  from  ray  companion  a 
bitter  curse.  At  his  suggestion  we  dismounted,  and  with  our 
guns  cocked,  approached  the  wolf,  using  our  horses  as  a  kind 
i  of  shield.  We  had  approached  within  a  reasonable  shot  of  the 
[animal,  when  it  suddenly  started  ;  but  seeing  nothing  but  two 
horses,  it  paused,  pricked  up  its  ears,  and  seemed  to  be  whet- 
ting its  appetite  for  a  supper  of  horse-flesh.  In  a  moment, 
however,  the  signal  was  given,  and  the  two  heavy  charges  of 
our  guns  were  lodged  in  the  body  of  the  wolf,  which  was  at 
that  instant  eupj  osed  to  be  in  a  precarious  condition ;  and 
jjhaving  seen  him  die,  and  t^ken  off  his  hide,  we  once  more 
toounted  our  faithful  ponies. 

Our  excitement  having  subsided,  we  gradually  fell  into  a 

drowsy  state  that  was  "heavier,  deadlier  than  before."     But 

from  this  we  were  also  roused,  by  the  tramp   or  pattering 

'.of  feet  in  our  rear.     We  looked,  and  behold !  a  herd  of  wolves 

ere  coming  towards  us  on  the  run.     Our  horses  took  fright 

nd  became  unmanageable.     The  prairie  devils  were  now  al- 

•inost  upon  us,  when  our  horses  became  alarmed  and  away  they 

.?^^!ran,  swift  as  the  breeze  that  suddenly  burst  upon  the  plain. 

:0t  was  not  long  before  we  left  our  enemies  far  out  of  sight, 

r-d  at  the  very  moir.ent  the  day  was  breaking  we  reached  the 

jnouth  of  Crow- Wing  river.     My  companion  managed  to  retain 

ihis  venison,  but  when  I  came  to  count  my  birds,  I  found  only 

five  remaining,  the  balance  having  unintentionally  been  left 

bpon  the  prairie  as  food  for  the  robbers  of  the  wilderness. 


;l>:    I 


Nil...  -  -i- 


CROW-WING. 


re, 


'f. 


i  3  ■  a 


'*^-:  ;   ! 


!"ji  I 


|,|tlH" 


llll»"'ll,l 


"Ml, 


:],i|iii"« 


The  spot  thus  designated  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  easi 
side  of  the  Mississippi,  directly  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
known  by  that  name.  It  is  here  that  the  trader  Allan  Mor- 
rison resides,  whose  reputation  as  an  upright,  intelligent,  and 
noble-hearted  man,  is  co-extensive  with  the  entire  wilderness  of 
the  northwest.  He  is  a  Scotchman  by  birth,  somewhat  advanced 
in  life,  and  has  resided  in  the  Indian  country  for  thirty-five 
years.  He  possesses  all  the  virtues  of  the  trader  and  none  of 
his  vices.  He  is  the  worthy  husband  of  a  worthy  Indian  wo- 
man, the  affectionate  father  of  a  number  of  bright  children, 
and  the  patriarch  of  all  the  Chippewa  Indians,  who  reside  on 
the  Mississippi.  Around  his  cabin  and  two  rude  store-houses, 
at  the  present  time,  are  encamped  about  three  hundred  Indians^ 
who  are  visiting  him,  and  I  am  informed  that  hia  guests,  during 
the  summer,  seldom  amounted  to  less  than  one  hundred.  And 
this  is  the  place  where  I  have  passed  several  of  the  most  truly 
delightful  days  that  I  ever  experienced.  It  is  at  this  peint 
that  I  am  to  embark  in  a  canoe,  during  my  summer  tour  will' 
Morrison,  (accompanied  by  his  unique  suite,)  who  is  to  be  my 
guide,  counsellor,  and  friend,  while  I  wander,  according  to  my 
own  free  will,  over  the  lake  region  of  the  extreme  Upper  Mis- 
sissippi. The  particular  canoe  in  which  I  am  to  embark,  ui*3 
been  made  by  a  Frenchman  under  my  own  eye.  The  process, 
though  simple,  was  to  me  most  interesting.  Birch-bark,  cedar 
slats,  and  willow  thongs  were  the  only  articles  used ;  but  the 
first  was  dried,  the  second  seasoned,  and  the  latter  was  used  in 
its  green  state. 

Crow- Wing  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  delightfully  locatcu 


CROW-WING. 


49 


elightfuUy  located 


nooks  in  the  world,  but  it  is  rich  in  historical  and  legendary 

associations.     A  fiimous  battle  was  once  fought  here,  between 

the  Chippewas  and  Sioux.    A  party  of  the  latter  had  goie  up 

Crow-Wing  river  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  a  certain  Chip- 

ewa  village.     They  found  it  inhabited  only  by  women  and 

hildrcn,  every  one  of  whom  they  murdered  in  cold  blood,  and 

onsumed  their  wigwams.     It  so  happened  that  the  Chippewa 

aniors  had  been  expecting  an  attack,  and  had  consequently 

tatioriud  themselves  in  deep  holes  on  a  high  bank  of  the  river 

,t  Crow-Wing,  intending  to  fall  upon  the  Sioux  party  on  their 

ay  up  the  river.     But  they  were  most  sadly  disappointed. 

hile  watching  for  their  enemies,  they  were  suddenly  startled 

a  triumphant  shout  that  floated  down  the  stream.     In  per- 

ct  agony  they  looked,  when  lo !  the  very  party  that  they 

re  after,  came  into  full  view,  shouting  with  delight  and  toss- 

g  up  the  scalps  which  they  had  taken.     Many  a  Chippewa 

avc  recognized  the  glossy  locks  of  his  wife  or  child,  and  knew 

is  gloomiest  anticipations  to  be  true.     They  remained  in  am- 

sh  for  a  few  moments  longer,  and  when  the  enemy  came 

ithin  reach  of  their  arrows,  every  one  of  tham  waa  killed, 

[hile  their  canoes,  plunder,  and  bodies  were  suffered  to  float 

wn  the  stream  unmolested ;  and  the  pall  of  night  rested 

n  uic  hills,  the  glens,  the  waveless  river,  and  the  Chippe- 

camp. 

mong  the  many  legends  associated  with  Crow-Wing  is  one 
ut  a  white  Pantncr,  whose  home  was  here  when  the  world 
lung.     That  Panther  was  the  Prophet  of  a  certain  Chip- 
wa  tribe,  and  had  power  to  speak  the  Chippewa  language, 
young  brave  was  anxious  to  revenge  the  death  of  a  brother, 
d  hod  sought  the  oracle  to  learn  the  success  of  his  intended 
pedition.     The  Panther  told  him  that  he  must  not  go,  but 
it  until  a  more  propitious  season.    But  the  young  man  headed 
party,  and  went;  and  every  one  of  his  followers  was  killed — 
mself  escaping  by  the  merest  chance.     Thinking  that  the 
nthcr  had  caused  this  calamity,  he  stole  upon  this  creature 
slaughtered  it,  in  the  darkness  of  midnight.   'The  dying 
rds  of  the  oracle  were — "  Cruel  and  unhappy  warrior,  I  doom 


|iiimu..'-!"4"i[ 


50 


CROW-WING. 


llMlltd 


4iJ 


im. «""'m|!j 


(!'J. 


^I'ljlfiSil'lMllnSll 


ii!»"'!'" 

%  ilUlHIl,, 


thee  to  wa'.k  the  earth  forever,  a  starv)i>;u  an*]  undj'iig  shna- 
ton."  Ant'  it  is  said  that  this  spectre  naa,  w'  -  lever  the  uiooa 
is  vir-ged  with  red,  or  the  aurora  borcaiiS  iUoih  the  pky  ivj,L 
purple,  may  be  seen  llUtinp;  in  solitude  along  tuo  br.aks  of  iK  ■ 
Mississippi. 

Crow-Wing  it;  the  Wiu'j.or  of  the  wilderness,  for  it  is  the 
nominal  hou;>!  of  the  head  Chief  of  the  Chippowa  nation.  IIi>« 
name  is  Holc-in-the-day,  and  I  had  fii«|ucnt  oppurluniaes  ci 
vitiitiiJg  him  in  Ms  lodge,  lie  is  about  sixty  yeans  of  age,  and 
a  remurkably  haiidsorae  man.  IJo  is  storn  and  brav^',  ''jut  nicin, 
viin,  treacherous  and  cruel.  lie  is  in  the  habit  of  resorting 
to  iuo  most  contemptible  tricks,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
iv'iisky,  with  which  ho  always  makos  a  beast  of  hims(>lf.  lie 
58  ^;onstantly  in  the  habit  of  talking  about  himself,  and  exhibit- 
ing the  oilicial  papers  which  he  has  roocivcd  from  the  Govern- 
ment in  making  treaties.  The  follo>\ing  was  the  most  famous 
of  his  deeds,  and  one  that  he  had  the  )iardihood  to  boast  of  as 
something  creditable.  He  and  some  six  warriors,  while  on  a 
hunting  tour,  were  hospitably  entertained  in  a  Sioux  lodge, 
where  resided  a  family  of  seventeen  persons.  The  two  nations 
were  at  peace,  and  for  a  time  their  intercourse  had  been  quite 
friendly.  On  leaving  his  host,  Ilolc-in-thc-day  shook  him  cor- 
dially by  the  hand,  with  a  smile  upon  his  countenance,  and 
departed.  At  midnight,  when  the  Sioux  family  were  reveling 
in  their  peaceful  dreams,  Ilole-in-the-day  and  his  men  retraced 
their  steps,  and  without  a  reasonable  provocation  fell  upon  the 
unprotected  family  and  cruelly  murdered  every  member,  even 
to  the  lisping  babe.  And  it  was  in  the  lodge  of  this  titled 
leader,  that  I  spent  whole  hours  in  conversation,  and  from  whom. 
I  received  a  present,  in  the  shape  of  a  handsome  red-stone  pipe. 
It  is  indeed  a  singular  fact,  that  the  most  interesting  and  in- 
telligent nation  of  the  West  should  be  ruled  by  such  an  unwor- 
thy chief  as  Ilolc-in-the-day. 

A  word  now  about  his  household.  lie  is  the  husband  of  two 
wives,  who  pursued,  while  I  was  present,  their  various  avoca- 
tions in  studied  silence.  Each  of  them  presented  me  with  a 
pair  of  moccasins,  and  placed  before  me  whole  mocucks  of 


,.-   H, 


CROW-WINO. 


51 


for  it  is  the 
nation.  IIi<< 
)oriuhiiics  CI 
s  of  age,  and 
.vo,  ^jut  mean, 
;  of  resorting 

of  obtaining 
himsqlf.  He 
',  and  exhibit- 
1  the  Govern- 
(  most  famous 
to  boast  of  as 
rs,  while  on  a 

Sioux  lodge, 
c  two  nations 
id  been  quite 
hook  him  cor- 
iitenancc,  and 
were  reveling 

men  retraced 

foil  upon  the 
member,  even 

of  this  titled 
nd  from  whom, 
•ed-stone  pipe, 
jsting  and  in- 
ach  an  unwor- 

lusband  of  two 
k'arious  avoca- 
ted  me  with  a 
e  mooucks  of 


maple  sugar.     In  passing  I  might  remark,  that  when  the  In- 
dians are  hard  pushed  for  flour  or  game,  they  will  resort  to 
their  sugar,  upon  which  they  can  live  for  days,  and  which  they 
consider  the  most  wholesome  of  food.  The  children  that.swarraed 
about  the  chief's  lodge,  I  wa  ^  unable  to  number.     His  eldest 
son  and  successor  I  frequently  met,  and  found  him  to  be  quite 
a  Brummol  of  the  woods.     The  following  story  gave  me  a 
glimpse  of  his  character.     Some  months  ago,  the  idea  had  en- 
tered his  head  that  his  father  was  jealous  of  his  increasing  pop- 
ularity among  the  people.     He  was  seriously  aficctcd  by  it, 
nd  in  a  fit  of  anger  resolved  to  starve  himself  to  death.     His 
riends  laughed  at  him,  but  to  no  purpose.     Ho  left  his  home, 
marched  into  the  woods  and  ascended  a  certain  hill,  (called 
Look-Out  hill,  and  used  from  time  immemorial,  by  the  Indians, 
as  a  point  "  om  which  to  watch  the  movements  of  their  enemies 
cendinp'  or  descending  the  Mississippi,)  ^vhcrc  he  remained 
lour  doys  without  a  particle  of  food.     He  was  only  rescued 
■rom  death  by  the  timely  discovery  of  his  friends,  who  took 
im  away  by  force,  and  actually  crammed  some  nourishment 
own  his  throat. 
But  my  Crow-Wing  stories  are  not  all  related  yet.     I  here 
w  alive  and  quite  happy,  a  warrior  who  Avas  once  scalped  in  a 
irmish  on  the  northern  shore  of  Red  Lake.   His  enemies  left 
kim  on  the  ground  as  dead,  but  wonderful  to  relate,  he  gradu- 
ally recovered,  and  is  now  as  well  as  anybody,  but  hairless,  of 
|ourse,  and  wears  upon  his  head  a  black  silk  handkerchief, 
he  summer  after  this  event  ho  was  hunting  buffalo  in  the 
ioux  country,  when  he  had  another  fight  with  two  Indians, 
oth  of  whom  he  succeeded  in  butchering,  and  one  of  those 
cry  men  was  the  identical  Sioux  who  had  taken  his  sculp  a 
w  months  before. 

During  my  sojourn  here,  I  have  had  frequent  opportunities 
if  witnessing  the  Indian  mode  of  swimming.  To  speak  within 
unds,  there  must  be  some  sixty  boys  at  Crow- Wing,  who 
ijoy  a  swim  about  every  hour.  When  not  in  the  water,  they 
e  hard  at  work  playing  ball,  and  all  in  the  sweltering  sun- 
ine,  with  their  ragged  looking  heads  entirely  uncovered,  and 


Nii""" 


*»ii|ii 


ii' 


in'ti  |) 


•;  .if  i3i'"f '''"'"'!!!! 


.   l.ihiiiHii 


p-.-'f"! , 

':,■  .  I  lllllliir,,, 


!""'^'^'''^'^;i 


IS'  H,  1: 


52 


CROW-WING. 


their  bodies  almost  nnkcd.  Just  as  soon  as  the  child  is  loosen- 
ed from  its  prison  cradle,  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  fit  candidate 
for  any  number  of  duckings,  which  are  about  its  only  inherit- 
ance. These  children  are  just  as  much  at  home  in  the  water 
as  ai  full-fledged  duck.  They  swim  with  great  rapidity,  always 
extending  one  arm  forward,  like  a  bowsprit,  and  holding  the 
other  closely  at  the  side.  They  are  so  expert  in  diving  that 
when  a  number  arc  pursuing  a  particular  individual,  and  that 
one  happens  to  dive,  the  Avholc  of  them  will  follow  after,  and 
finally  all  come  up  fifty  or  a  hundred  yards  off.  To  bring  up  a 
pebble  from  a  hole  twenty  feet  deep  'n  looked  upon  as  n  very 
common  feat.  This  art  seems  to  be  inherent  in  their  nature, 
and  is  the  gift  of  a  Avise  Providence ; — for  all  their  journeys 
arc  performed  on  the  water,  and  their  canoes  aro  as  frail  as 
frailty  itself.  It  is  very  seldom  that  we  hear  of  an  Indian 
being  drowned. 

The  only  Indian  ceremony  I  have  witnessed  at  this  place  is 
called  the  Begging  Dance.  A  large  party  of  brave  warriors 
had  como  to  pay  their  white  father  (Mr.  Mon-ison)  a  disin- 
terested visit,  but  as  they  were  nearly  starved,  they  said  not  a 
word,  but  immediately  prepared  themselves  for  the  dance,  that 
is  universally  practised  throuj^fhout  the  nation.  It  was  night, 
and  all  the  people  of  Crow-Wing  were  stiitioned  in  a  large  circle 
before  Morrison's  door ;  while  one  swarthy  form  held  aloft  a 
birchen  torch,  which  completed  such  a  picture  as  Avas  never 
equaled  upon  canvas.  The  everlasting  drum,  and  rattling  of 
"  dry  bones,"  commenced  their  monotonous  music ;  when  the 
most  ridiculously  dressed  man  that  I  ever  beheld,  stepped  out 
from,  the  crowd  and  commenced  dancing,  keeping  time  with  a 
guttural  hum.  Upon  his  head  was  a  peaked  woollen  hat,  and 
his  flowing  hair  was  filled  and  entangled  with  burs.  On  hi? 
back  he  wore  the  remnant  of  an  ancient  military  coat,  and  on 
one  leg  the  half  of  a  pair  of  breeches,  while  his  other  propel- 
ling member  was  besmeared  with  mud.  In  one  hand  he  held 
the  empty  skin  of  a  skunk,  and  in  the  other  the  gaunt  body  of 
a  dead  crane.  Immediately  after  this  rare  specimen,  appeared 
in  regular  succession  about  twenty  more  dressed  in  the  same 


OROW-WXNQ. 


5S 


liild  is  looscn- 
b  fit  candidate 

only  inherit- 
3  in  tho  water 
pidity,  always 
1  holding  the 
in  diving  that 
dual,  and  that 
low  after,  and 
To  bring  up  a 
ipon  as  a  very 
I  their  nature, 
their  journeys 
iro  as  frail  as 

of  an  Indian 

it  this  place  is 
brave  warriors 
rison)  a  disin- 
hey  said  not  a 
the  dance,  that 
It  was  night, 
n  a  large  circle 
•m  held  aloft  a 
!  as  was  never 
nnd  rattling  of 
ic ;  when  the 
Id,  stepped  out 
n<r  time  with  a 

CD 

oollcn  hat,  and 
burs.  On  hi? 
ry  coat,  and  on 
.3  other  propcl- 
>  hand  he  held 
B  gaunt  body  of 
3in.en,  appeared 
ed  in  the  same 


manner,  and  when  all  out,  their  dancing  capers  were  even  more 
uncouth  and  laughable  than  their  personal  appearance.     The 
object  of  all  this  was  to  exhibit  their  abject  poverty,  and  create 
a  1  atmosphere  of  good  nature ;  and  it  was  their  method  of  ask- 
ing Mr.  Morrison  for  food.    Soon  as  ho  had  supplied  them  with 
flour  and  pork,  they  ceased  dancing,  seized  tho  booty,  and  de- 
parted for  their  wigwams  to  enjoy  a  feast.     On  the  following 
I  day,  this  band  of  gentlemen  made  their  appearance,  painted, 
jand  decked  out  in  most  splendid  style,  with  the  feathers,  rib- 
S|,bons,  scarlet  leggins,  and  other  ornaments  which  they  had  kept 
^hidden  until  after  the  dance  and  feast  were  ended. 

I  have  as  yet  accomplished  but  little  in  tho  way  of  hunting; 
that  is,  but  little  for  this  region.  On  one  occasion  I  killed 
seven  fine  looking  ducks,  which  turned  out,  however,  to  be  unfit 
to  eat,  as  they  were  of  the  dipper  species,  and  a  little  too  fishy 
CA  en  for  my  taste ;  at  one  time  I  killed  twenty-five  pigeons  ; 
*fit  another,  about  a  dozen  grouse ;  and  last  of  all  a  couple  of 
'  ''^j'oung  coons.  The  latter  game,  I  would  remark,  afforded  one 
of  the  most  delectable  of  feasts. 

But  in  the  way  of  fishing,  tho  waters  about  Crow-Wing  have 
treated  me  to  some  of  the  rarest  of  sport.     The  Mississippi  at 
lis  point  contains  a  great  variety  of  fish  of  the  mullet  and 
''5|ucker  genus,  but  tho  only  two  desirable  kinds  are  the  muska- 
lounge  and  a  very  largo  pike.    I  tried  tome  of  these  with  a  fine 
took  hidden  in  a  frog,  but  I  could  not  tempt  them  in  that  way. 
'X^w  fashionable  mode  for  taking  them  is  with  a  spear,  by  torch- 
•|Ught,  and  during  half  the  hours  of  one  night  I  performed  the 
Dart  of  a  devotee  to  fashion.     My  pilot  was  an  Indian,  and  we 
rent  in  a  birchen  canoe,  using  birch-bark  for  a  torch.     There 
rere  quite  a  number  of  canoes  out  that  night,  and  the  gliding 
jibout  of  tho  various  torches,  the  wild  shores,  tho  ever-varying 
l)ed  of  the  river,  and  my  own  occasional  struggle  with  an  ira- 
lense  fish, — conspired  to  throw  me  into  a  nervous  state  of  ex- 
citement which  has  not  entirely  left  me  at  the  present  moment, 
did  think  of  mentioning  the  number  of  prizes   that   were 
iken  on  that  memorable  night,  but  my  modesty  forbids;  I 
ill  only  say  that  I  saw  extended  on  the  shore  a  muska-lounge 


iWilti 


m 


! 

■  .1  :iiii 

54 


cnow-wiNO. 


that  weighed  thirty-seven  pounds,  and  a  pike  that  almost  weigh- 
ed twenty-four. 

Two  miles  cast  of  Morrison's  house  is  a  little  lake,  somo  four 
miles  in  circumference,  which  is  said  to  contain  no  other  fisli 
than  black  h.iss.  My  own  experience  tells  me  that  this  report 
is  true.  I  aiif^lcd  along  its  sandy  shores  a  number  of  times, 
and  could  take  nothing  hul  bass.  They  were  small,  weighin;,' 
about  a  pound,  of  a  dark  green  color  on  the  back,  sides  a  bril- 
liant yellow,  and  belly  white.  I  took  them  with  a  lly,  and  to 
the  palate  found  thorn  delicious  eating. 


^'1 

5    1      '    1:1 


1>-, 


[WMliil}  ' 


'■'  ill     ■  "  '  ■ 


THE   INDIAN  TRADER. 


TnE  Indian  trader  belongs  to  the  aristocracy  of  tho  wildcr- 

less.     His  business  is  to  barter  with  tho  Indians  for  their  furs, 

IB  the  agent  of  some  established  fur  company.    lie  is  generally 

ft  Frenchman,  whose  ancestors  were  traders  before  him,  and  of 

course  a  native  of  the  wild  region  ho  inhabits.     Such  arc  the 

/acts  with  regard  to  the  individual  I  am  about  to  portray,  and 

|I  purpose,  by  this  specimen,  to  give  my  reader  a  faithful  idea 

jof  the  class  to  which  he  belongs. 

;,     Tho  residence  of  my  friend  is  on  tho   Saint  Peter's  river, 
ypcar  the  brow  of  a  picturesque  point  formed  by  a  bend  of  the 
river,  and  his  nearest' white  neighbor  is  only  two  hundred  miles 
Iff.     The  dwelling  that  he  lives  in  is  built  of  logs,  and  contains 
10  large  room  and  a  garret.     Adjoining  this  cabin  is  another 
the  same  character,  where  he  keeps  his  merchandise  which 
l)nsists  chiefly  of  pork,  flour,  blankets,  blue  and  scarlet  cloths, 
)d  various  kinds  of  trinkets.     His  household  is  composed  of 
in  Indian  wife   and  a  full  assortment  of  half-breed  4uldrcn, 
rho  are  generally  possessed  of  a  good  deal  of  natural  shrewd- 
less,  but  of  course  utterly  ignorant  of  books  and  the  ways  of 
le  civilized  world.     Adjoining  the  trader's  residence  is  about 
)ne  acre  of  ploughed  ground,  where  he  cultivates  a  few  com- 
lon  vegetables  ;  and  he  keeps  a  solitary  cow,  which  yields  him 
kho  only  luxury  that  he  enjoys.     His  live  stock  is  very  extcn- 
pive,  but  not  of  that  character  which  is  profitable, — it  is  pecu- 
liar to  tho  wilderness,  and  in  our  section  of  country  would  be 
illed  a  menagerie.     The   following  is  a  correct  list  of  my 
riend's  treasures  in  this  pai'ticular,  viz, : — one  grizzly  bear, 


Iwi 


.,,  .!■■ 


56 


THE  INDIAN  TRADER. 


^;..'" 


„.),».MmM. 


n 


4*  KxUi'l 


lj|::;"i;a::;;- 


I;,*:)'  '         ■     "    1' 


lllf  I '  "■ 

i' 


„!■  :;"ir"'! 

iiji 

:i  ■    '"^"t'liiii 


K  V 


two  black  bears,  two  fawna,  one  fox,  ono  coon,  ono  englc,  one 
crow,  ono  cormornnt,  a  flock  of  wild  gccse,  two  Hwans,  anil  one 
owl.  In  addition  to  these  I  ought  to  mention  a  herd  of  Indian 
dogs,  and  a  brotherhood  of  Indians,  who  uro  nearly  always  en- 
camped in  the  vicinity  of  the  trader's  dwelling. 

Now,  as  to  the  manner  of  the  trader's  life.  Though  I  did 
not  intend  to  make  a  hero  of  my  friend,  I  must  say  that  the 
life  he  loads  is  heroic  to  an  uncommon  (le;:rco.  Ilia  resting 
time  is  during  the  summer  months,  when  !iis  principal  business 
is  to  obtain  his  merchandise  and  attend  the  various  Indian  pay- 
ments that  may  happen  to  be  made.  But  during  tho  winter, 
which  is  long  and  very  severe  in  this  region,  ho  visits,  with  ono 
or  two  companions,  tho  hunting-grounds  of  tlic  Indians, — leav- 
ing his  homo  heavily  loaded  with  goods  and  provisions,  and  re- 
turning, still  more  heavily  laden  with  packs  of  furs  and  peltries. 
Tho  hardships  and  privations  that  he  then  endures,  would,  in 
a  single  month,  destroy  a  common  constitution ;  but  they  arc 
treated  by  him  as  matters  of  very  little  consequence,  for  his 
constitution  seems  to  be  of  an  iron  nature.  Several  days  docs 
lie  sometimes  spend  without  a  particle  of  food ; — now,  snow- 
bound in  the  pathless  woods,  and  now  surrounded,  perhaps,  by 
a  band  of  hostile  Indians,  who  may  succeed  in  robbing  him  of 
bis  furs.  Now  it  is  his  fortune  to  struggle  for  life  with  some 
half-famished  beast ;  and  now  he  has  to  endure  tho  frightful 
dangers  of  fording  angry  and  partly  frozen  rivers.  Cold, 
fatigue,  and  hunger  are  at  the  foundation  of  almost  every  scene 
that  he  passes  through  during  the  clieerless  winter  months  of 
every  year,  in  the  Indian  Territory  of  the  northwest. 

Tho  intellectual  and  moral  character  of  our  Indian  trader  is 
what  would  be  expected  from  a  man  in  his  condition.  He 
knows  not  how  to  read  or  write,  and"  is  consequently  dependent 
upon  a  clerk  for  the  prosecution  of  his  epistolary  business  and 
tho  keeping  of  his  memorandum  books.  In  politics  he  is 
nothing,  as  he  has  not,  from  his  location,  the  privilege  of 
voting ;  but  his  sympathies  arc  invariably  with  thoso  officers  of 
the  Government  who  project  and  carry  out  measures  nominally 
for  the  benefit  of  tho  poor  Indians,  but  more  particularly  for 


1 


(ft. 


)no  eagle,  one 
wana,  nnd  one 
herd  of  Indian 
trly  always  cn- 

Though  I  did 
,t  say  that  the 
.     His  resting 
ncipal  business 
•us  Indian  pay- 
ing the  winter, 
visits,  with  one 
Indians, — leav- 
visions,  and  rc- 
irs  and  peltries, 
lures,  would,  in 
\ ;  but  they  are 
;quence,  for  his 
ivcral  days  docs 
d ; — now,  snow- 
Icd,  perhaps,  by 

robbing  him  of 
r  life  with  some 
ire  the  frightful 
rivers.  Cold, 
most  every  scene 
inter  months  of 
thwest. 
Indian  trader  id 

condition,  lie 
lently  dependent 
iry  business  and 
a    politics  he  is 

the  privilege  of 
I  those  officers  of 
asures  nominally 

particularly  for 


*1i3 


THE  INDIAN  TRADEU. 


67 


his  own.     In  religion,  ho  is  a  blind  adherent  to  tho  Pope  of 
Rome.     Tho  glittering  dollar  appears  to  bo  tho  Htar  of  his  am- 
bition.    Having  been  for  many  years  an  agent  for  the  famous 
[American  Fur  Company,  he  has  become  hardened,  and,  like 
his  teacher  in  tho  science  of  oppressive  monopoly,  seldom  hcsi- 
Jtatcs  at  any  course  of  conduct  that  will  prove  lucrative.     lie 
^^avows  himself  tho  best  and  only  friend  of  tho  Indian,  and  yet 
.^^his  every  act  of  kindness  is  accompanied  by  a  moral  stab.     IIo 
'^■buys  a  pack  of  furs  and  allows  tho  hunter  tho  current  price, 
Hbut  then  ho  pays  him  in  flour  at  p  vhaps  Jifty  dollars  per  bar- 
'rel,  and  blankets  at  ten  dollars  apiece  ; — but  far  worse,  ho  sells 
to  tho  benighted  savage  tho  baneful  fire-water,  which  makes 
kim  a  devil. 

'    But  tho  trader  has  some  redeeming  (lualities,  and  I  know  not 
that  I  am  disposed  to  write  him  down  as  raoro  ignorant  or 
ricked  than  his  civilized  fellow-men  in  tho  same  sphere  of  life, 
it  tho  same  time  that  he  imposes  upon  tho  poor  Indian,  in 
lore  ways  thtin  one,  it  is  also  true  that  he  is  his  friend  when 
jld  and  hungry.     The  Indian  is  such  a  thoughtless  and  impro- 
Kdent  creature,  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  he  should  have 
jmo  one  to  watch  over  him  and  keep  him  from  starving.     And 
^tcn  is  the  trader's  duty,  in  this  particular,  faithfully  per- 
rmcd ;  with  all  his  faults,  he  would  sooner  die  than  see  an 
Wian  suffer  from  want  of  food.     Take  tho  trader  away  from 
tibe  cares  of  business,  as  you  sometimes  may  employ  him  as 
jtour  guide  in  a  hunting  expedition,  and  you  will  find  hira  a 
'best  interesting  companion.     Strange  as  it  will  seem,  he  is  a 
jvoted  lover  of  nature,  and  being  superstitious,  ho  has  a  legend 
his  head  for  every  picturesque  nook  of  the  woods  and  prai- 
Bs,  and  for  every  beast  or  bird  that  may  happen  to  cross  your 
ith.     lie  is  well  acquainted  with  the  geography  of  tho  north- 
Bst,  and  makes  an  occasional  rudo  map  upon  bii'ch  bark,  which 
to  of  great  value  to  those  who  execute  them  on  a  largo  scale 
|r  our  Government.     That  portion  of  Nicolot's  map,  reprc- 
bnting  the  extreme  head  of  the  Mississippi,  was  made  upon 
;%ark,  by  Francis  Brunet,  one  of  these  very  men.     The  Indian 
tader  is  also  well  acquainted  with  tho  traditionary  history  of 


.»*# 


t  ..>„  ;  '"I'll 


i/i,;-..  '•'■>'**■  t  hip;. 


•M 


;|  l:":i!?:ii''l'«iiiiiili 


58 


THE  INDIAN  TRADER. 


the  Indian  tribes,  and  knows  well  the  character  of  every  chief 
and  remarkable  personage  now  living.  He  has  a  kindly  na- 
ture, and  his  whole  conduct  is  agreeably  softened  by  an  innate 
politeness.  He  is,  to  sum  up  all,  a  most  romantic,  but  very 
useful  and  influential  character,  and  in  intellect  the  aristocrat 
of  the  wilderness. 

I  may  append  with  propriety  to  this  sketch,  a. few  words 
about  the  fur  trade  generally,  as  it  now  exists  beyond  the  Mis- 
sissippi. A  division  took  place  in  the  American  Fur  Company 
a  few  years  ago,  and  whil:  one  party  was  headed  by  Pierre 
Chotcau,  and  traded  on  the  Missouri,  the  other  remained  under 
the  guiding  hand  of  Ramsey  Crooks,  and  confined  its  opera- 
tions to  the  region  of  the  Great  Lakes.  The  principjil  men  in 
this  fur  trade,  before  and  since  the  family  division,  succeeded 
in  accumulating  large  fortunes,  but  both  of  the  companies  arc 
now  supposed  to  be  insolvent.  For  my  part  I  am  not  surprised 
at  this  result,  vhen  I  know  the  overbearing  and  monopolizing 
character  of  these  companies,  and  when  I  believe  in  the  theory 
that  iniquity  has  its  reward  even  in  this  world.  Many  of  the 
deeds  that  have  been,  and  are  still,  sanctioned  by  the  so-called 
American  Fur  Company,  are  of  such  a  character  as  to  be 
worthy  of  the  severest  condemnation.  But  of  its  many  iniqui- 
ties I  w"ll  mention  only  one.  This  company  has  located  its 
agents  in  every  eligible  corner  of  the  wilderness,  for  the  ulti- 
mate purpose  of  accumulating  gold ;  and  when  the  poor  mission- 
ary of  the  cross  has  crept  along  through  untold  hardships  to 
plant  the  bannc  jf  a  pure  religion,  for  the  benefit  of  the  retl 
man,  he  has  been  insulted  and  driven  away.  But  I  like  not 
this  theme,  and  will  let  it  pass  into  forgetfulness.  When  I  am  • 
told  that  the  bt^ver  and  the  otter  and  other  valuable  animals  ;■ 
are  rapidly  becoming  extinct,  and  that  the  glory  of  the  Ameri- 
can Fur  Company  is  for  ever  departed,  I  cannot  but  believe 
that  there  is  a  wise  and  just  Providence, Avho  holdeth  the  world 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hands. 


"^"  'i|*'"!%,u, 


'i 


mm 


SPIRIT  LAKE. 


This  Lake,  which  the  French  have  named  Mille  Lac,  and 
ertain  ignorant  Yankees,  Rum  Lake,  was  originally  called  by 
e  Chippewas,  Minsisagaigoming,  which  signifies  the  dwelling 
||laco  of  the  Mysterious  Spirit.     In  form  it  is  almost  round,' 
Itod  nearly  twenty  miles  across  in  the  widest  part.     Tlic  shores 
lire  rather  low,  but  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  oak, 
lard  maple,  and  tamarack.     It  is  shallow,  but  clear  and  cold, 
as  a  rocky  bottom,  yields  a  variety  of  llsh,  contains  only  three 
ilands,  which  are  small  and  rocky,  and  is  skirted  with  a  barrier 
boulder  rocks. 

The  Mysterious  Spirit  alluded  to  above  has  acquired  a  great 

toriety  on  account  of  his  frequently  taking  away  into  the 

irit  land  certain  people  whom  he  loved.     Sometimes  he  would 

e  them  for  a  fev  days,  and  sometimes  he  would  not  return 

lem  at  all.     The  following  stories  were  given  to  me  as  facts, 

tlbd  I   know  were   actually  believed.     An   Indian,  Avith   his 

mily,  had  encamped  upon  the  lake  for  one  night,  and  just  as 

Avas  about  to  depart  on  the  following  morning,  he  could  not 

d  his  only  child,  a  little  girl.     At  one  moment  she  was  seen 

Scking  up  some  pebbles  near  her  father's  canoe,  and  the  very 

xt  was  gone.     For  six  days  did  they  seek  the  child,  but  in 

in.     On  the  seventh"  day,  however,  as  they  were  about  to 

part  once  more,  (having  given  up  all  hope  of  recovering  the 

St  one,)  they  looked,  and  behold !  she  was  again  picking  up 

bbles  beside  the  canoe,  as  unconcerned  as  if  nothing  had 

ppcned.     When  questioned,  she  answered  that  she  had  only 

n  taken  away  by  a  beautiful  lady  to  a  beautiful  land,  where 

e  had  been  happy  in  seeing  many  beautiful  things. 


te.  5 


m 


,..ii)jiiii 


!H:::r::P^"if! 


■f' 


ii;'!9"'i'Siiliiiii 

jtSN'"'l'''ii 

,'■'',  I  l.illlllllllll 


m 


id 


'f"'t" , 


60 


SPIUIT  LAKE. 


Once  when  there  was  a  party  of  Indians  encamped  here,  a 
favorite  young  girl  was  discovered  to  be  missing,  and  her 
friends,  supposing  that  she  liad  been  drowned,  were  mourning 
bitterly  at  her  departure ;  one  day  she  made  her  appearance 
in  her  father's  lodge,  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  was 
accompanied  by  two  dog?.  Ilcr  story  was,  that  an  old  woman 
had  taken  her  to  an  island,  presented  her  with  the  animals, 
and  bade  her  prepare  for  a  long  journey.  She  Avas  absent  for 
three  weeks,  but  on  the  day  of  her  return  was  numbered  willi 
the  dead. 

A  little  boy  was  also  once  lost  on  the  margin  of  this  lake 
The  only  trace  of  him  that  ever  could  be  discovered,  was  om 
of  his  arrows  found  lodged  in  a  tree.  And  the  Indians  believe, 
too,  that  the  aged  mother  of  IIo!e-in-the-day  (the  great  chief  i 
was  also  carried  away  by  this  Mysterious  Spirit.  One  thing 
is  certain,  say  they,  she  disappeared  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
from  the  party  with  whom  she  was  travelling  many  years  ago 
Tliesc  arc  indeed  idle  legends,  but  give  us  an  insight  into  the 
Indian  mind. 

The  following  is  an  historical  fact,  which  only  proves  tlu 
obstinacy  of  the  principal  actor.  Many  years  ago,  a  cliief 
named  White  Fisher,  with  liis  family  and  a  party  of  braves, 
were  encamped  in  one  large  lodge  on  the  north  side  of  Spirit 
Lake.  A  friendly  Indian  entered  the  cabin  at  sunset,  and  told 
the  chief  tliat  he  had  seen  a  war-party  of  three  Sioux  on  lii; 
trail.  The  chief  scorned  to  believe  the  story,  because  iii; 
dreams  told  him  nothing  about  an  enemy.  In  a  short  time 
his  eldest  son  returned  from  his  evening  hunt,  and  said  that 
ho  had  also  seen  three  Sioux  in  the  woods  about  a  mile  off;— 
but  the  father  continued  to  disbelieve.  Finally  the  chief's  own 
brother  told  him  a  similar  story,  which  Avas  also  treated  witli 
contempt.  It  was  now  morning,  and  the  chief  made  his  ap- 
pearance outside  of  his  lodge,  and  was  about  to  go  upon  a  hunt; 
— but  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  three  balls  passed  through  his 
body,  and  ho  died.  Every  single  member  of  his  household  was 
killed,  excepting  his  youngest  son,  who  was  taken  prisducr, 
lived  in  the  Sioux  country  for  twenty  years,  but  finally  re- 


SlPIRIT  LAKE. 


61 


samped  hove,  a  m 
ssing,  and  her 
were  mourning 
her  appearance  ■ 
poned,  and  was 
it  an  old  woniiiu 
itli  the  aniniiils, 
i  was  absent  for 
i  numbered  wilh 

nrhi  of  this  hike 
;overed,  was  onr 
I  Indians  believe, 
(the  great  chief  i 
)irit.  One  thing 
inkling  of  an  eye 
many  years  ago. 
I  insight  into  tlic  . 

only  proves  the 
:ar3  ago,  a  chief 
party  of  bra\es. 
rth  side  of  Spirit 
,t  sunset,  and  told 
roe  Sioux  on  lii; 
tory,  because  lii; 

In  a  short  time 
int,  and  said  tliat 
bout  a  mile  off;— 
ly  the  chief's  own 

also  treated  wiili 
lief  made  his  ap- 
,0  go  upon  a  hunt; 
massed  througli  lib 
his  household  wa; 
Ls  taken  prisoiicv. 
•s,  but  finally  re- 


rned  to  his  own  people,  and  he  was  the  identical  individual 
om  •whose  lips  I  obtained  the  above  facts.  He  is  now  a  chief, 
d  universally  known  by  hu  father's  name,  Wabogike,  or 
hite  Fisher. 

On  the  west  bank  of  Spirit.  River,  whore  it  leaves  the  lake, 
the  rude  grave  of  Kitcheoseyin,  or  Elder  Brother,  who  was 
inc  of  the  most  famous  orators  of  his  nation.  lie  was  a  noted 
ief,  and  on  one  occasion  had  given  up  into  the  hands  of  the 
fhitc  men  a  certain  Chippewa  murderer.  His  people  were 
ry  angry  at  him,  and  it  was  currently  reported  that  he  was 
lOut  to  be  assassinated.  He  heard  of  this  interesting  move- 
j|ent,  and  immediately  summoned  a  council.  The  warriors 
Here  all  present^  and  when  the  pipe  had  been  passed  entirely 
li^nd,  the  chief  steppe'  forward  and  addressed  the  council  in 
ll^e  following  words,  which  were  repeated  to  me  by  one  who 
lieard  them  : 

:   "  Friends,  relatives,  and  brothers.    My  object  in  calling  you 

ether  in  council  is  this.    I  hear  that  you  desire  to  take  away 

life  because  I  have  given  up  to  the  white  men  a  Cbippewa 

ian,  who  had  murdered  one  of  their  people.    I  have  done  so, 

vc  men,  and  I  think  I  have  done  riglit.    That  man  who  com- 

tcd  the  murder  was  a  bad  dog, — ho  was  not  o  true  Chippe- 

ludian,  and  for  his  wicked  deed  he  deserves  .     die.     Had 

I  been  at  war  with  the  white  nation,  it  would  have  been  well, 

ut  we  are  at  peace. 

"But,  brothers,  I  understand  that  you  ^?cuso  me  of  siding 

i^ith  the  pale  faces,  and  that  you  think  such  conduct  wrong. 

3|id()  love  the  Avhite  men,  and  I  do  not  think  ray  conduct  wrong. 

is  it,  I  would  ask  you,  that  supplies  us  with  food  when 


Whc 


«no  is  scarce,  and  who  gives  the  warm  blanket  to  protect  us 
)m  the  winter  cold  ?  Who  is  it  that  gives  us  the  guns  that 
so  much  need,  and  the  tobacco  that  we  so  much  love?  You 
bw  that  it  is  the  white  man,  and  you  know,  loo,  that  you  act 
|e  fools  to  blame  me  for  my  conduct,  and  seek  to  kill  me  be- 
ise  I  would  be  an  lioncst  Chippewa. 

I"  I  tell  you,  warriors,  that  I  do  love  the  white  man,  and  I 
ready  to  die  for  his  sake.    You  cannot  compel  mo  to  change 


Imim,  ■..-•■ '■■■■•'•• 


62 


SPIlllT  LAKE. 


,  I iiiiaiil 


•  '.  ":i  :'!»*::  I- i'liililllliii! 


pill 


'"m. 


^<'Wm^'4 


my  opinion.  Make  a  hole  in  tlic  lake  yonder,  take  me  by  force 
and  place  me  under  it  until  I  am  almost  dead,  then  pull  me  up 
and  ask  me,  'Will  you  side  with  the  white  man  now?'  sind  I 
will  answer,  'Yes.'  Do  it  again,  and  again,  and  again,  and  I 
will  always  answer,  'Yes,'  and  also  that  'the  white  man  is  the 
best  friend  we  have.'  Friends,  I  command  you  to  go  nomc. 
and  ever  hereafter  mind  your  own  business." 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  speech  had  the  desired  eflFect. 
and  entirely  quelled  the  ri.sing  storm.  The  chief  was  not 
killed,  but  died  many  years  afterward  witl)  the  lockjaw,  frorc 
a  cut  that  he  accidentally  received  on  his  foot. 

The  ruling  chief  of  Spirit  Lake,  at  the  present  time  is  Nu 
guanabic,  or  Outside  Feathei.  lie  is  said  to  be  the  most  wor- 
thy, intelligent  and  influen'ial  of  all  the  Chippewa  chiefs.  I 
spent  many  agreeable  and  instructive  hours  in  his  louge,  and 
among  my  Indian  curiositi.'S  <here  is  nothing  that  I  value  more 
highly  than  the  presents  i  received  ^rom  him.  It  does  my 
heart  good  to  remember  lae  old  man,  and  the  beautiful  lake 
which  is  his  home. 

A  sou  of  this  old  Indian,  while  hunting,  once  pursued  a  deer 
to  a  very  great  distance,  which  he  finally  captured.     Out  of 
revenge  for  the  improper  conduct  of  the  raiimal,  the  cruel  In- 
dian tortured  it  in  a  variety  of  ways,  and  came  home  boasting 
of  what  he  had  done.     At  the  feast  usually  given  on  such  occa- 
sions, this  old  chief  addressed  his  son  in  the  following  words: 
"  We  arc  thankful  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  furnishing  us  witb  ■ 
food.     But  my  son  has  acted  very  v/rong  in  torturing  that  ani 
mal,  and  if  the  laws  of  the  Great  Spirit  arc  not  changed  from  j 
what  they  wcru  in  times  past,  that  boy  shall  not  be  privileged 
to  kill  another  deer  during  the  wliole  winter."     And  I  was  told 
that  he  did  not,  and  that  no  cruel  hearted  man  ever  can,  under  % 
similar  circumstances. 

It  was  from  the  lips  of  this  aged  Indian  that  I  obtained  the 
following  legend. 

A  thousand  winters  ago,  the  Great  Spirit  caused  the  sun  to   1 
be  faf-tened  in  the  heavens,  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  tiio 
world  on  account  of  an  enormous  sin  which  had  been  committed. 


Ml 


SPIRIT  LAKE. 


63 


lat  I  obtained  the 


le  men  of  that  time  assembled  together  in  council,  but  could 
bvisc  no  means  to  avert  the  calamity.     The  animals  of  the 

rth  also  held  a  council,  and  they  were  about  to  give  up  all 

kpes  of  a  release,  when  a  small  animal  stept  forth  and  avowed 

intention  of  gnaAving  off  the  string  that  held  the  sun.     He 

^tercd   the  earth,  and  after  traveling  a  long  time,   finally 

iched  the  desired  planet  and  accomplished  his  purpose.  The 
|at  of  the  sun,  however,  was  so  great,  that  the  sight  of  the 

roic  little  animal  was  impaired,  and  it  returned  to  the  earth 

|a  poor  blmd  mole. 


,!«!! 


1^' 

^m' 


"11 


%-  ■■'>>       III 


LAKE  WINNIPEG. 


ilWlBi, 


Winnipeg,  is  the  first  lake  of  importnnoo  which  the  traveler 
paiscs  through  on  his  way  up  the  Mississippi  from  Crow-Wing, 
and  it  is  a  naiiiesako  of  the  groat  northern  lake.  The  banks 
of  the  river  throughout  tliis  long  distance  do  not  average  more 
than  about  ten  feet  in  height,  and  arc  all  the  way  covered  with 
a  stuntc4  growth  of  trees,  where  the  birch,  the  elm,  the  pine, 
and  tlie  spruce  mostly  predominate.  It  is  so  exceedingly  wind- 
ing here,  that  by  making  a  portage  of  fifteen  rods,  you  nmv 
often  save  some  three  or  four  miles  of  canoe  travel.  Tiic 
stream  varies  from  an  eighth  to  half  a  mile  in  width ;  soiiio 
times  shallow  and  rapidly  running  over  a  rocky  bed,  sometimes 
widening  into  a  shallow  lake,  and  sometimes  deep,  and  running 
sluggishly  through  a  soil  of  clay  or  sand,  and  almost  blockcJ 
up  ^^ilh  snags  and  sand  bars. 

The  meaning  of  Winibigoshish,  or  Winnipeg,  is,  mudih 
water.  The  lake  is  twelve  miles  in  length  and  perhaps  ten  i; 
'.idth.  Tt  is  nearly  round,  has  no  islands,  but  a  gravelly  lui! 
sandy  bottom,  and  is  surrounded  by  a  handsome  beach ;  tin 
water  is  clear  an-  shallow,  and  it  contains  no  fish  but  those 
that  I  have  elsewhere  mentioned  as  pccliar  to  this  section  of 
the  Mississippi.  The  surrounding  country  is  a  dead  Icvtl, 
composed  of  continuous  woods,  Avliich  are  everywhere  inti'i-'i 
spersed  with  lakes  and  rice  swamps,  where  unnamoerod  watir 
fowl  have  lived  nnd  multiplied  for  centuries. 

The  only  inhabitants  that  wc  found  on  tho  shores  of  Winni' 
peg,  were  three  bands  of  Gliippcwas,  numbering  in  all  alo 
one  thousand  souls,  who  were  drawn  together  by  an  agent  c 


dSbft^  I 


v^/KI'' 


LAKE  WINNIPEG. 


65 


hich  the  traveler 
from  Crow-Wing, 
vke.     The  hanks    * 
not  average  more 
way  covered  with 
he  elm,  the  pine, 
exceedingly  wind- 
jn  rods,  you  nmj 
moe  travel.     The 
in  width;  sonie- 
ky  bed,  sometimes 
deep,  and  runniiis; 
id  almost  hlockcJ 

inipeg,  is,  m"'^'!} 
md  perhaps  ten  in 
but  a  gravelly  uu! 
[Isomc  beach ;  tlic 
no  fish  but  tlm- 
1-  to  this  pcctioii 
y  is  a   dead  h' 
everywhere  int  v 
unnumbered  watvi- 

10  shores  of  Winni. 
bering  in  all  alio: 
her  by  an  agent  d 


he  American  Fur  Company  who  had  come  to  barter  with 
t^em.     We  pitched  our  tent  in  the  midst  of  their  encampment, 

village,  and  managed,  so  ^ar  as  I  was  concerned,  to  spend  a 
ay  and  night  among  them  quite  pleasantly.  Immediately  on 
ly  arrival  there,  I  hoai'd  something  about  a  contemplated  bear 
unt.  It  happened  to  be  the  month  wlien  this  animal  performs 
8  annual  journey  to  the  south,  whence  it  returns  in  October. 

number  of  them  had  already  been  killed,  and  there  was  a 
■^ossing  place  on  the  Mississippi,  where  a  good  marksman 
gjjpight  take  one  almost  at  any  time.     I  found  that  there  were 
,fiut  two  men  going  on  the  hunt,  and,  as  a  present  of  tobacco 
ffon  initiated  mo  into  their  good  graces,  the  party  of  course 
litis  increased  to  three.     We  started  at  sunset  and  descended 
If  the  crossing  place  in  a  canoe,  where  we  ambushed  ourselves 
VH  one  of  the  wildest  recesses  of  the  forest,  seated  on  a  mossy 
ipck  that  commanded  an  opening  between  the  trees,  while  our 
"jl^noo  was  hidden  by  a  willow  that  bent  gracefully  over  the 
?)|ji|ream.     It  was  a  clear,  still  night,  but  quite  dark,  as  there 
^s  no  moon.     Hero  we  spent  a  number  of  hours,  without 
Uttering  a  word ;  but  listening  meanwhile  to  the  dismal  shriek 
^  an  owl,  or  the  silvery  dropping  of  the  dew  on  the  gently 
Ijliwing  river.     Finally,  however,  one  of  the  Indians  tapped  mo 
4Wfethe  shoulder,  and  pointed  to  a  large  black  object,  which  I 
«Mr  was  a  bear  just  wading  into  the  water,  directly  on  the  op- 
posite side  from  where  we  were  seated.     I  had  been  tohl  not 
to  fire  until  the  signal  was  given,  and  so  the  following  five 
apanutos  seemed  longer  than  an  ordinary  hour,  to  my  impatient 
asjnd.     The  boar  took  it  quite  leisurely,  not  dreaming  that  an 
«tteuiy  A\as  so  near.     But  just  as  his  feet  touched  the  bottom 
on  our  side  of  the  stream,  the  Indians  gave  me  a  nod,  and  rais- 
iig  our  several  guns,  we  all  three  fired  at  the  poor  animal,  who 
nHlPppod  into  the  water  quite  dead,  creating  around  him  a  crini- 
^  pool.    We  shipped  the  animal  on  board  the  canoo,  paddled 
^l^lie  village,  and  hanging  it  on  the  high  limb  of  a  tree,  retired 

ur  Several  wigwams  and  slept  until  morninp;. 

n  making  my  appearance  araong  the  Indians  after  break- 

I,  I  found  that  I  was  to  witness  the  ceremony  which  invarj- 
5 


11 


'a;:';%I 


F'fil' 


mhiUm 


I  \\U' '  ' 


\ 


i;.!!' 
't'- 


i'lllllnii., 

.  IlillllWllli 


li|*"l'<m,„, 


"IW, 


66  LAKt!  WINNIPEG/ 

ably  follows  tlic  capture  of  a  bear.     I  ought  to  remark  in  tlii! 
place,  that  the  animal  in  question  was  supposed  by  Morrison  to 
Weigh  three  hundred  pounds.    The  Indian  ivho  had  first  touched 
the  bear  with  hia  hand,  (according  to  a  universal  custom  among 
the    Chippewas,)  was   the  one  who   claimed  it   as  his   own- 
When  he  had  taken  off  the  skin,  he  presented  it  to  a  brotlier 
hunter,  who  from  that  moment  considered  himself  under  obli- 
gations to  return  the  compliment  at  the  earliest  moment  after 
his  next  successful  hunt.     The  animal  was  then  dressed,  anii 
the  four  quarters  hung  up  in  our  hunter's  wigwam,  that  being 
the  only  portion-  allotted  to  him  by  custom ;  while  the  heml. 
back-bone,  and  ribs,  the  feet,  the  heart,  liver  and  fat,  were  all 
served  up  for  a  feast.     A  red  feather  was  then  sent  to  all  tin 
principal  men  in  the  village  as  an  invitation,  which  they  under 
stood  to  be  to  a  bear  feast,  while  the  eomvion  class  of  men  Wtn 
verbally  invited,  women  and  children  being  denied  the  privik'gt 
of  participating.     At  the  appointed  hour  the  guests  made  tlitir 
appearance,  in  a  neighboring  grove,  each  one  carrying  in  lii- 
hand  a  wooden  bowl  or  dish.     After  they  wore  comfortiiLlv 
seated  in  a  large  circle,  a  bag  of  ka-nick-a-nick  and  tobacc 
was  circulated,  and  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke  ascended  to  tL* 
sky,  —  for  the  Intlians  invariably  commence  their  ceremonu- 
by  smoking.     The  next  step  was  to  place  upon  a  fire  in  their  ' 
midst  a  large  kettle  containing  the  remnants  of  the  bear,  whicl 
were  to  be  boiled  to  a  kind  of  soup,  without  the  least  partitl 
of  seasoning.     While  this  was  cooking,  one  of  the  orators  i 
the  day  delivered  a  speech,  wherein  he  thanked  the  (Jrea 
Spirit  for  telling  his  red  children  where  to  find  the  bear,  anoi 
concluding  with  some  remarks  upon  tho  characteristics  of  t! 
animal.     When  tho  bear  chowder  was  done,  it  was  equally  ili- 
tributed  among  the  assembled  crowd,  and  each  one  required t 
eat  the  whole  that  was  placed  before  him,  and  this  too  witlioo 
a  ladle  or  lifting  his  dish,  but  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  tl 
common  attitude  of  a  bear.     The  bones  were  then  all  repliui 
in  the  kettle  and  deposited  in  some  safo  place ;  to  neglect  tit 
part  of  the  ceremony  would  be  to  anger  the  Great  Spirit,  wi. 
would  not  allow  the  giver  of  the  feast  to  kill  another  bear. 


w 


w 


i»it 


LAKE  WINNIPEG. 


67 


sal  custom  among 

it  as  his  own, 
[  it  to  a  brotlier 
fnself  nnder  oWi- 
est  moment  after 
then  dicssetl,  anil j 
gwnm,  tliat  being ' 

■while  the  heiiil. 

and  fat,  "were  all 

u  sent  to  all  tlie 
^•hidi  they  unikr- 

class  of  men  wcn. 
L'nied  the  privili^- 

cuests  made  tluii 
ic  carrying  in  lii: 

were  conifortablv 
-nick  and  tohiicc 
ke  ascended  to  tli' 
e  their  cercmoiiii- 
3on  a  fire  in  the:; 
i  of  the  bear,  wliici 
t  the  least  particl'. 
c  of  the  orators  > 
thanked  the  iiirs 

find  the  bear,  an: 
aracteristics  of  \h 
,  it  Avas  equally  di; 
ach  one  required  t 
iind  this  too  AvillRiu: 
ds  and  knees  in  il. 
jre  then  all  replace 
lice  ;  to  neglect  ih 
le  Great  Spirit,  vL 
11  another  bear. 


Among  the  stories  which  I  heard  at  Lake  Winnipeg,  was 
iho  following, — given  to  me  by  an  aged  chief  as  a  fact,  but 
hich  I  cannot  consider  in  another  light  than  as  a  legend.  It 
lustrates,  however,  the  influence  of  dreams  upon  the  savage 
ind.  An  Indian  named  Otncagancc  (Little  Shoulder,)  while 
unting  after  doer,  on  a  cold  winter  day,  came  to  the  margin 
if  this  lake,  where  he  built  a  fire  and  spent  the  night.  lie  had 
dream,  and  thought  that  ho  was  crawling  under  ground,  for 
0  purpose  of  rescuing  a  human  being  from  death.  On  opcn- 
g  his  eyes  in  the  morning,  he  was  greatly  surprised  to  sec  a 
toman  on  the  ico  a  short  distance  off.  She  was  standing  near 
air-hole,  and  wailing  on  account  of  her  child,  a  little  boy, 
.0  had  fallen  through  and  must  inevitably  perish.  Soon  as 
le  hunter  heard  the  woman's  story,  he  dove  into  the  hole,  sav/^ 
,e  child  a  groat  distance  off,  holding  out  its  hands,  swam  to  it, 
0ud  in  a  few  n.inutes  placed  it  in  its  mother's  arms  —  alive. 
VAhd  yonder,"  said  the  chief,  pointing  to  a  little  mound,  "is 
libc  resting  place  of  the  good  mother,  and  before  you  stands  that 
J|py  —  changed  to  an  old  man.  As  to  my  saviour,  Otncagancc, 
lie  has,  for  many  moons,  been  a  resident  in  the  Hunting 
,j|^rounds  of  the  Blessed." 

v^  Speaking  of  the  dead  reminds  mo  of  the  Winnipeg  gravc- 
jjj^rd.  The  Chippewa  mode  of  treating  their  dead,  is  to  cn- 
100])  the  body  of  their  friend  in  a  bark  box,  which  they  expose 
ojwn  a  scaffolding,  supported  by  four  poles,  and  surmounted 
irith  a  piece  of  skin  or  cloth  as  a  flag.  After  the  body  has 
Mmained  there  until  all  decomposition  is  at  an  end,  they  then 
liury  tlio  bones,  placing  at  the  head  of  the  grave  a  portion  of 
We  l)ost  food  at  that  time  in  their  possession.  They  after- 
loardd  cover  the  hillock  with  bark,  somewhat  after  the  manner 
if  a  roof,  leaving  at  one  end  a  little  window  or  door,  for  the 
irted  spirit  to  enter,  when  it  comes  to  take  away  its  bones, 
a  certain  mysterious  day,  to  which  the  living  all  look  for- 
d  with  reverence.  When  a  friend  dies,  for  one  whole  year 
reafter  they  place  food  and  tobacco  periodically  upon  his 
,ve  ;  and  all  the  articles  that  he  left  behind  -rre  venerated 
cherished,  as  if  endowed  with  life.     Their  manner  of 


08 


LAKE  WINNIPEG. 


,,.»».  »"ir'« 


k, •1.,,, 


\ 


!».' 


» 


mourning  for  the  Jcacl  ordinarily  ia,  to  paint  their  faces  black; 
but  wlion  their  friend  Ia  taken  away  by  violence,  they  wail  and 
mutilate  their  bodies.  It  is  a  part  of  their  religion  to  protect 
from  sacrilege  and  exposure  the  remains  of  their  departed 
friends,  and  the  survivors  are  constantly  repairing  every  ruin 
that  accident  or  time  may  bring  upon  the  graves  of  their  kin- 
dred. The  grave-city  that  attracted  my  attention  at  Winni- 
peg, consisted  of  seventy-six  bark  houses  like  those  that  I 
have  described.  In  fifty-two  of  them  reposed  the  ashes  of 
fourteen  fiimilies  who  were  butchered,  at  midnight,  by  a  Sioux 
war-party.  In  five  of  them  were  buried  a  mother  and  four 
daughters,  who  lost  their  lives  while  fishing  on  the  lake,  in 
frail  canoes,  that  were  swamped  by  a  sudden  storm.  In  seven- 
teen of  them  lay  the  remains  of  as  many  warriors,  who  were 
attacked  by  a  Sioux  party  of  two  hundred, — they  fought  in  a 
single  trench,  for  one  whole  day,  but  were  finally  overcome 
rtnd  destroyed. 

The  melancholy  impression  which  these  brief  facts  loft  upon 
ray  mind,  as  I  stood  in  that  wilderness  grave-yard,  I  could  not 
easily  dissipate.  What  a  strange  contrast  in  every  particular 
did  it  present  to  the  grave-yards  of  the  civilized  world  !  Not 
one  of  all  this  multitude  had  died  in  peace,  or  with  a  know- 
ledge of  the  true  God.  Here  were  no  sculptured  monuments, 
no  names,  no  epitaphs  ; — nothing  but  solitude  and  utter  deso- 
lation. 


L     I       • 


•  >'^    lllll  I'""  '■'''"    'III 


5*1..   \  ■■.f,  1 1  Piai'li.,,,. 


# .  i',        ■   \i- 


RED   CEDAR   L*      B. 


Red  Cedau  Lake  is  tlie  sheet  of  water  Mr.  Schoolcraft  has 
attempted  to  name  after  a  tlistinguislicd  friend ;  I  say  at- 
tempted,  because  tlie  Indians  and  traders  of  the  northwest  do 
not  recognize  his  change.  I  agree  with  them  in  the  opinion 
that  it  is  not  rigid  for  travellers  to  glorify  themselves  or  friends 
by  attempting  to  supplant  with  their  own,  the  original  and  ap- 
propriate names  that  belong  to  the  rivers  and  lakes  of  our  land. 
If  the  ambitious  can  discover  nameless  wonders,  they  will  then 
be  privileged  to  use  them  in  extending  their  reputations. 

lied  Cedar  Lake  takes  its  Indian  name  from  the  tree  that 
mostly  abounds  upon  its  shores.  It  contains  little  more  Avater 
than  Winnipeg,  but  it  has  near  its  centre  a  large  island,  which 
causes  it  to  appear  much  larger  on  the  map.  It  has  a  groat 
many  bays  and  several  islands  ;  has  a  sandy  bottom  and  fine 
beach ;  is  shallow,  clear,  and  yields  a  small  white  fish,  a  few 
trout,  and  the  plebeian  varieties  hereafter  mentioned  as  native 
to  the  Mississippi.  The  shores  of  this  lake  are  gently  undu- 
lating, from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high,  and  must  have  been  ori- 
ginally quite  beautiful.  A  mission  house  has  been  recently 
established  hei'e,  and  for  many  years  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany have  had  a  trading  post  in  its  vicinity.  Among  the 
Indian  families  that  I  saw  here  was  one  composed  of  a  Avidow 
and  her  children,  whose  father  had  died  two  winters  ago,  while 
crossing  the  lake  on  his  return  from  a  hunting  expedition, 
lie,  perished  from  cold  and  hunger,  Avhile  in  full  vicAv  of  the 
cabin  which  sheltered  his  wife  and  children.  And  here,  more 
than  a  thousand  miles  from  a  really  comfortable  dwelling, 


^^% 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.25 


no    ^*        


m  m 


2.2 


us 


I 


2.0 


m 

1.4    11.6 


V 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  872-4503 


iV 


i 


v 


•^ 


^\ 


ci\ 


I 


^ 

/>> 

^    ^ 

^.4^ 


% 


.\ 


5^ 


ci\ 


70 


RED  CEDAR  LAKE. 


;;,^.H««*«»l 


l^'sll 


iiUi' 


f,.      '       -.t"  "■      ■"■V.r." 


i 


*:  V 


i'    N 


lived  this  unfortunate  "widow — ignorant,  destitute,  and  without 
friends.  The  story  which  she  told,  and  the  wretched  picture 
that  her  condition  presented,  kept  me  from  inquiring  into  the 
legendary  lore  of  this  lake,  so  that  I  spent  my  only  evening 
there,  listening  to  the  desultory  conv  jrsation  of  my  friend  Mor- 
rison.    The  facts  which  I  then  gathp'  od  are  now  subjoined. 

The  entire  region  \,atered  by  the  unnumbered  lakes  of  the 
Upper  Mississippi,  including  Superior  and  Michigan,  is  now 
inhabited  by  the  Chippewa  nation.  The  most  of  it  they  have 
acquired  by  the  right  of  conquest,  and  principally  from  the 
Sioux  nation,  which  is  the  principal  cause  that  has  so  often 
deluged  this  territory  with  blood.  Their  idea  of  the  creation 
is  as  follows.  Originally,  when  the  globe  was  an  entire  mass 
of  water,  the  only  living  creature  that  existed  was  an  immense 
bird,  from  whoso  eyes  glanced  the  lightning,  and  whose  voice 
was  thunder.  It  so  happcrod  that  this  creature  was  oppressed 
with  solitude,  and  having  touched  the  water  with  its  wings, 
the  continents  immediately  appeared  ;  and  from  the  beams  of 
the  stars  were  born  the  first  race  of  men,  and  from  the  winds 
all  the  animals  of  the  earth.  The  Chippewas  universally  ac- 
knowledge the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  whom  they  call 
Kitchi-Manitou,  which  signifies  Great  Spirit,  "and  they  reve- 
rence this  Being  as  one  from  whom  nothing  but  good  can 
proceed.  They  also  believe  in  an  Evil  Spirit,  called  Matcho- 
Manitou,  who  is  a  liater  of  all  men,  and  the  source  of  every 
misery.  They  also  believe  in  a  great  number  of  spirits  of  more 
limited  power  than  the  above  ;  and  they  have  one  of  these  for 
the  sun  and  moon,  for  every  lake,  river,  and  mountain,  of  any 
note ;  and  for  evfery  season  of  the  year,  as  well  as  for  every 
beast,  bird,  fish,  reptile,  and  insect,  that  may  have  acquired  a 
reputation  among  them.  To  all  of  these  they  are  in  the  habit 
of  making  oflFerings,  which  are  as  various  as  the  spirits  them- 
selves. Death,  with  them,  is  always  luoked  upon  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  a  blessing.  When  a  good  man  dies  they  sup- 
pose that  he  is  taken  across  a  certain  river  into  a  land  of  per- 
petual sunshine,  of  beautiful  woods,  streams,  and  prairies, 
where  every  variety  of  game  is  always  at  hand,  and  fruit  upon 


lillSltl.  Il  .: 


HES  CEDAR  LAEE. 


n 


every  tree ;  where  they  "will  have  nothing  to  do  but  love  each 
other,  and  live  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace.  When  a  bad  man 
dies,  he  is  compelled  to  attempt  to  er-'iss  another  river  on  a 
bridge  of  reedd,  through  which  he  inevitably  falls  into  the 
angry  waters,  which  are  sure  to  transport  bin  to  a  distant 
country,  which  is  barren,  always  covered  with  snow,  and  very 
cold.  He  is  to  live  there  in  a  state  of  perpetual  hunger, 
shivering  under  the  influence  of  biting  winds. 

Their  manner  of  winning  the  title  of  a  Brave,  when  there  is 
no  chance  of  distingnishing  themselves  in  war,  as  at  the  present 
time,  is  to  retire  into  a  lonely  nook  of  the  woods,  where  they 
remain  for  six  days  without  a  particle  of  food.  "While  there, 
they  commemorate  each  day  by  making  a  notch  on  a  stick,  and 
when  they  finally  appear  in  the  village,  with  a  stick  of  six 
notches,  they  are  welcomed  as  accomplished  warriors.  They 
arc  trained,  almost  from  the  hour  of  their  birth,  to  endure 
every  possible  hardship,  which  ever  makes  them  superior  to  a 
sense  of  suffering  or  fear  of  death.  And  the  two  great  objects 
which  prompt  them  to  all  this,  arc,  that  they  may  be  able  al- 
ways to  protect  their  relatives  and  friends  from  harm,  and  to 
shield  their  country  from  every  aggression.  It  is  a  part  of 
their  religion  to  revenge  every  wrong,  and  when  their  terrible 
passions  are  roused,  nothing  but  blood  can  stop  them  in  their 
march  of  cruelty.  This  trait  is  inherent  in  \heir  nature,  even 
as  the  taste  of  blood  will  whet  the  appetito  of  the  leopard  and 
lion, — and  I  doubt  if  the  Divine  Will,  in  its  wisdom,  would 
have  this  state  of  things  altered.  If  otherwise,  it  were  reason- 
able to  expect  that  the  hand  of  God  would  fall  heavily  upon 
the  white  man,  for  placing  the  yoke  of  a  most  bitter  oppression 
upon  the  unhappy  Indian  tribes.  Many  of  the  vices  which 
were  once  almost  hidden  in  their  simple  nature,  have  been 
ripened  into  full  maturity  by  the  example  and  allurements  of 
their  civilized  brethren.  They  deeded  to  us  their  beautiful 
domains,  and  we  have  recompensed  them  with  a  cup  of  poison, 
aad  the  deadly  principles  of  infidelity-  And  yet  we  (as  a 
people)  think  it  just  and  charitable  to  speak  of  the  poor  Indian 
with  a  curse  upon  our  lips- 


12- 


BED  CEDAR  LAEF. 


||i;|iS"'i^'»"'tK'l 


Uw-"** 


P  l! 


SlVr'niHi 


I  ipi'iislii;; 


MklllllllWIllUl 


■      T  li„  '■■1 


The  following  is  an  outline  of  tlie  Indian's  manner  of  life. 
In  November  he  enters  his  hunting  grounds.  After  remaining 
in  one  place  until  he  ean  find  no  more  game,  he  removes  to  an- 
other a  fevf  miles  off,  and  so  continue?  until  the  whole  region 
is  explored  and  the  winter  months  are  gone.  Early  in  March^ 
ho  settles  his  family  in  the  maple  forest ;  and  while  his  wife- 
and  children  are  left  to  make  sugar,  he  enters  alone  upon  his- 
spiing  hunt.  Returning  in  May,  he  takes  his  family  and 
pitches  his  tent  in  the  vicinity  of  the  various  military  establish- 
ments and  trading-houses  of  the  wilderness,  where  he  spend* 
the  summer  months,  feasting,  gaming,  and  idling  away  hi» 
time.  In  September,  he  plucks  his  corn  and  gathers  his  wild 
rice;  and  in  October,  prepares  himself  for  the  approaching 
winter  hunt.  In  the  winter  they  rove  about  in  companies  of 
about  five  families,  but  in  summer  congregate  in  villages. 

A  few  words  as  to  their  ideas  of  marriage.  Each  man  is 
allowed  to  have  as  many  wives  as  he  can  support,  and  it  is  a 
singular  fact  that  they  invariably  live  together  in  the  greatest 
harmony.  Those  that  are  young  and  have  no  children,  are 
compelled  to  act  (and  they  do  it  willingly)  as  servants  to  those 
who  are  mothers.  It  is  also  true  that  some  of  them  are  allowed 
to  retain  their  virginity  until  death.  Though  the  Chippewaa 
are  permitted  by  their  customs  to  have  a  number  of  wives,  they 
are  generally  so  poor  ■  h  -  majority  of  them  have  only  one. 
When  a  young  man -fa  .^s  himself  in  love,  he  invites  two  or 
three  of  his  cor:panions  to  go  with  him,  and  they  pay  a  visit 
to  the  loved  oneh  lodge.  During  this  visit  not  one  word  is- 
uttered  by  the  guests,  and  when  they  depart  the  Indian  lady 
is  left  in  duabt  as  to  the  particular  one  who  thus  commences- 
his  loving  attack.  On  the  succeeding  evening,  the  lover  per- 
forms Lis  visit  alor  a.  When  he  enters,  if  the  lady  speaks  to 
him,  he  is  accepted ;  if  not,  he  is  rejected.  If  the  father  offers- 
him  a  lighted  pipe,  it  is  a.  sign  that  his  consent  is  granted  ;  if 
he  docs  not,  and  keeps  silent,  it  is  understood  that  the  young 
man  must  not  persevere.  When  accepted,  the  lover  makes- 
some  rich  presents  to  the  father  and  mother,  and  the  loversi 
are  con-sidcred  husband  and  wife.     Until  the  bride  becomes,  si 


■>■<'■ 


'PS. 


RED  OEDAR  LAKE. 


td( 


mother,  she  resides  in  her  father's  lodge;  and  all  the  game 
that  the  young  hunter  kills,  is  given  to  the  wife's  parents,  but 
the  furs  to  his  wife.  After  this,  the  young  woman  packs  up 
her  apparel,  which  is  usually  her  whole  fortune,  and  takes  up 
her  residence  with  her  husband  in  a  new  lodge.  Divorces 
among  the  Chippewas  are  hardly  eter  known ;  and  adultery 
is  considered  a  heinous  crime,  and  always  punished  with  seve- 
rity. 

Travelling  among  the  Chippewas  may  be  considered  a  good 
deal  safer  than  it  is  among  the  half  savage  inhabitants  of  the 
frontier.  The  ir-ost  dangerous  to  deal  with  ai*e  the  young  men, 
who,  in  civilized  society,  would  be  called  "  snobs."  They  are 
idle,  haughty,  and  revengeful,  and  the  only  right  way  to  treat 
them  is  with  the  utmost  coldness.  Allow  them  to  be  familiar, 
and  they  will  soon  be  impudent  and  overbearing.  Unlike 
civilized  barbarians,  those  of  the  wilderness  know  not  what  it 
is  to  use  profane  language.  When  they  have  reason  to  despise 
a  man,  they  call  him  a  bad  dog ;  and  when  they  have  chastised 
such  an  on :,,  they  wear  a  skunk  skin  at  one  of  their  heels  as  a 
memento  of  the  mean  man's  disgrace. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Chippewas  is  proverbial.  When  a 
stranger  enters  their  cabin,  he  is  invited  to  a  seat  on  their  best 
mat,  and  always  treated  with  the  very  best  that  they  possess  in 
the  way  of  food.  Visit  a  chief  at  an  untimely  hour,  at  midnight 
for  example,  and  he  will  arise,  stir  up  his^ro,  and  give  you  a 
pipe  with  all  the  air  and  politeness  of  a  polished  gentleman. 
Call  upon  him,  when  you  know  that  he  has  reason  to  consider 
you  his  enemy,  and  he  will  not  tell  you  to  leave  his  wigwam,  but 
it  may  be  that  in  an  unguarded  moment,  when  in  your  own 
lodge,  he  will  cleave  your  skull  with  a  tomahawk.  They  are 
also  exceedingly  affectionate,  and  do  everything  in  their  power 
to  make  their  children  happy.  When  a  party  of  them  are  in  a 
state  of  starvation,  and  one  individual  happens  to  have  a  bear 
or  a  deer,  he  will  distribute  it  equally  at  a  feast.  They  treat 
their  infirm  people  with  tender  care ;  and  never  refuse  to  pre- 
sent to  a  brother  Indian  any  pipe,  weapon,  or  ornament  that 
may  have  been  solicited.     They  extend  the  same  civility  to  all 


1,.  '">' 
liv''/';  ■■■}  ' 


t* 


RED  CEDAR  LAKE. 


white  men  whom  they  esteem.  As  the  Chippewa  country  is 
mostly  covered  with  a  dense  forest,  this  people  are  unacquainted 
with  the  use  of  the  horse.  Their  mode  of  hunting  the  buffalo 
has  always  been  to  drive  them  over  bluffs,  or  to  shoot  them 
while  disguised  in  the  skin  of  a  wolf  or  buffalo.  Their  only 
Vehicle  is  the  birchen  canoe,  so  famous  for  its  beautiful  model, 
its  frailty  and  feathery  lightness.  The  bark  of  the  birch,  out 
of  which  it  is  made,  is  found  in  great  abundance  throughout 
their  entire  territory,  and  they  use  it,  not  only  for  canoes,  but' 
for  their  loilges,  their  grave-houses,  their  baskets,  their  mocucks, 
their  dishes,  and  exquisitely  worked  boxes,  which  they  dispose 
of  as  curiosities. 


!!S;t 


K'„. 


\VH 


U**' ■[ 

umm 


i   i 


f*  f "IHtJljil 


'if  ''       ill 


iiiiip  II...   ,  :,ll    ,X^ 

Ifljiieiiei 


ELK   LAKE. 


Elk  or  Itasca  Lake  is  the  fountain  head  of  the  Mississippi. 
It  is  thought  tO'ho  three  thousand  miles  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
and  two  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Atlantic.  It  is  a 
small  sheet  of  water,  about  five  miles  long,  one  to  two  miles 
wide,  and  contains  only  one  island,  which  lies  directly  in  the 
centre.  The  first  traveller  who  visited  the  lake  was  Henry  R. 
Schoolcraft,  after  whom  the  island  has  been  justly  named.  On 
the  south  side  is  a  ridge  of  wood-crowned  hills,  which  give  birth 
to  tiny  streams,  that  eventually  empty  their  waters  into  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  oceans.  The  whole  region  on  the  north  is 
woody,  low  and  marshy.  The  water  is  clear,  deep,  and  full  of 
fish ;  the  bottom  gravelly ;  and  the  entire  shore  covered  with 
reeds  and  rushes.  The  trees  which  abound  here  are  the  pine, 
oak,  elm,  maple,  birch,  and  poplar ;  and  the  fish  are  principally 
the  trout,  pike,  and  black  bass.  The  Mississippi  when  it  leaves 
this  lake  is  only  about  twenty  feet  wide,  but  after  passing 
through  a  great  number  of  lakes  it  spreads  itself  to  the  width 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  empties .  into  Red  Cedar 
Lake.  This  portion  of  the  Great  River  might  well  be  likened 
to  the  infant  Hercules,  for  it  is  the  master  of  every  thing 
around  it,  and  rambles  onward  as  if  conscious  of  its  dawning 
power.  Upon  the  whole,  however,  it  is  through  a  cheerless 
wilderness. 

The  region  of  Elk  Lake  was  once  famous  for  the  number  of 
its  animals,  and  derives  its  name  from  the  following  legend  of 
a  mammoth  elk.  This  creature  is  said  to  have  measured  the 
length  of  two  large  canoes,  and  with  his  horns  had  power  to 


:».rf-r' 


.*f-j 


l!"    :    "  '«! 


Iff' 


pU 


.^'-•' 


i[  'I 


^'S''  ill 


I  ,1^  1 ,1  Mil).  Ik, 
'■'"lIlillBklllHllH, 


fU'l*'!*"*., 


76 


ELK  LAKE. 


split  a  pine  tree.  His  lair  was  in  a  valley  in  the  neighboring 
hills,  where  ho  reigned  supremo ;  and  it  was  customary  for  all 
the  animals  of  the  north,  which  were  of  giant  size  in  those  days, 
to  make  him  an  annual  visit.  As  they  were  so  numerous,  they 
were  compelled  to  occupy  the  country  for  many  miles  around, 
which  accounts  for  its  excessive  flatness.  The  object  of  this 
"world's  convention"  M'as  to  consult  the  king  of  beasts  as  to 
the  forests  and  plains  they  were  to  occupy  during  the  following 
year ;  and  to  partake  of  the  water  of  the  small  lake,  which  had 
power  to  protect  them  from  every  disease  or  accident ;  and  such 
was  the  state  of  things,  when  an  enemy  made  its  appearance, 
and  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Elk  was  ended.  . 

Those  were  the  days  when  giants  inhabited  the  earth,  and 
the  regions  where  most  they  congregated  was  in  the  far  South. 
It  so  happened  that  a  hunting  party  of  these  people  wandered 
to  the  North,  and  finally  pitched  their  tents  in  the  vicinity  of 
this  lake.  Among  th.e  animals  they  succeeded  in  killing  was 
the  Mammoth  Elk,  which  they  found  asleep  and  pierced  with  a 
poisoned  arrow.  The  heavens  were  immediately  filled  with 
clouds,  and  a  heavy  rain  deluged  the  earth,  and  with  their 
booty,  in  melancholy  mood,  the  hunters  started  on  their  return. 
The  rain  Avas  so  abundant  that  the  lake  overflowed  its  banks, 
forming  a  little  stream,  which  finally  widened  into  a  broad 
river,  and  emptied  into  an  unknown  sea ;  and  on  the  bosom  of 
this  river  did  the  hunters  float  in  their  nowly  made  canoes,  until 
they  found  themselves  in  their  own  country.  The  conclusion 
of  the  whole  matter  Avas,  that  from  that  year  all  the  animals  of 
the  earth  began  to  dwindle  in  size,  and  the  men  of  that  time 
were  reduced  in  statui  ^  to  the  heighi  of  their  younger  children. 

A  more  suggestive  le^'^end  than  the  above  I  have  seldom 
heard.  To  my  mind,  it  illustrates  the  poetical  genius  of  the 
Indian,  and  throws  much  light  upon  the  history  of  the  Mound 
Builders.  I  obtained  it  from  the  lips  of  an  old  Indian  hermit, 
as  I  sat  in  his  solitary  lodge. 

On  the  gentle  hills  which  overlook  this  lake  I  spent  a  number 
of  days,  pondering  upon  the  sti'ange  wild  scenery  which  sur- 
rounded me.     At  one  time  I  reveled  over  a  morning  landscape. 


ELK  LAKE. 


77 


The  sun  had  risen  above  an  ocean  of  forests,  and  tlio  air  was 
tremulous  with  melodj.  Earth  was  awake,  and  qlothcd  in  her 
fresh  green  garment.  The  mists  had  left  the  long  low  valleys, 
and  revealed  to  the  open  sky  winding  rivers  and  lakes  of  sur- 
passing loveliness.  Everything  was  laughing  with  joy  under 
the  glorious  influence  of  the  summer  sun. 

The  elk  and  the  deer  wore  cropping  their  morning  repast, 
with  the  dew-showers  trickling  from  their  sides.  Gracefully 
did  the  smoke  curl  upward  from  a  distant  Indian  village.  The 
hunters  were  preparing  for  the  chase.  I  saw  them  enter  their 
canoes,  silently  glide  down  a  river,  and  finally  lose  themselves 
among  the  islands  of  a  vast  swamp.  None  were  left  in  that 
village  but  women  and  children.  While  the  former  busied 
themselves  in  their  rude  occupations,  the  latter  were  sporting 
in  the  sunshine,  some  shooting  at  a  target,  some  leaping,  some 
swimming,  and  others  dancing. 

At  one  time  I  gifzed  upon  a  noontide  panorama.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  was  stirring,  and  the  atmosphere  was  hot  and 
sultry.  The  leaves  and  the  green  waves  of  a  distant  prairie 
were  motionless.  The  birds  were  tired  of  singing,  and  had 
sought  the  shadowy  recesses  of  the  wood.  The  deer,  my  fancy 
to!d  me,  was  quenching  his  thirst  in  some  nameless  stream,  or 
panting  with  heat  in  some  secluded  dell.  On  an  old  dry  tree, 
whose  giant  arras  stretched  upwards,  as  if  to  g  i  p  the  clouds, 
a  solitary  eagle  had  perched  himself.  It  was  too  hot  even  for 
him  to  enjoy  a  bath  in  the  upper  air ;  but  presently,  as  if 
smitten  with  a  new  thought,  he  spread  out  his  broad  pinions, 
and  slowly  ascended  to  the  zenith — whence  I  fancied  that  the 
glance  of  his  keen  eyes  could  rest  upon  the  Atlaintic  and  Pacific 
oceans.  The  butterfly  and  wild  bee  were  resting  on  the  full- 
blown flowers.  Earth  and  air  were  so  tranquil,  that  it  seemed 
as  if  nature  were  offering  up  a  prayer.  Winding  far  away  to 
the  south  was  the  Mississippi,  fading  away  to  the  bending  sky. 

Towards  evening  a  cloud  obscured  the  sky.  The  wind  arose, 
and  was  soon  followed  by  a  roaring  sound, — and  now  a  scorm 
was  spending  its  fyry  upon  forest  and  prairie.  Loud  thunder 
echoed  through  the  firmament,  and  the  lightnings  flashed  forth 


78 


KLK  LAKB. 


.!,«,•«••'•" 


their  fire.  The  forests  were  bonding  as  if  every  tree  would 
brciik.  An  old  oak,  which  Htood  in  its  grandeur  above  its  fel- 
lows, now  lay  prostrate.  The  parched  soil  was  deluged  with 
rain.  But  finally  the  storm  spent  its  fury,  and  the  clouds,  like 
a  routed  army,  were  passing  away  in  dire  confusion.  A  rain- 
bow then  arched  the  hi>avcns,  and  ;  fresh  but  gentle  breeze  was 
fanning  my  face,  and  thriBing  me  with  pleasure. 

I  also  looked  upon  this  wilderness  landscape  at  a  later  hour. 
As  tlio  sun  descended,  the  clouds  came  out  to  meet  him,  decked 
in  their  most  gorgeous  hues,  while  the  evening  star  smiled  at 
his  approach.  He  had  left  the  valleys  in  twilight,  and  I  knew 
that  his  last  beams  were  gilding  with  gold  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. The  moon  ascended  to  her  throne ;  and  the  whippoor- 
will  commenced  her  evening  hymn.  On  heavy  wings  a  swan 
flew  past  me ;  he  was  going  perhaps  to  his  homo  on  the  margin 
of  Hudson's  Bay.  A  stir  was  in  the  Indian  village,  for  they 
had  returned  with  their  canoes  loaded  ^^th  game.  The  cus- 
tomary festival  had  commenced,  and  most  strangely  did  their 
wild  music  sound,  as  it  broke  on  the  surrounding  solitude.  The 
doe  had  gone  to  her  grassy  couch,  the  feathered  multitudes  were 
sleeping,  and  the  mantle  of  night  had  fallen  upon  the  world. 

It  was  now  midnight,  and  I  stood  in  the  centre  of  an  appa- 
rently boundless  wilderness  of  forests  and  prairies ;— while  far 
away  to  the  northwest  reposed  a  range  of  hills,  which  seemed 
to  me  like  a  vast  caravan  of  the  antediluvian  Mound  Builders. 
The  moon  had  compassed  the  heavens,  and  was  near  her  setting. 
A  thousand  stars  were  by  her  side.  She  flooded  with  her  silver 
beams  the  leaves,  the  waves,  and  distant  hills.  Every  voice 
within  the  Indian  village  was  hushed.  The  warrior,  asleep  upon 
his  mat,  was  dreaming  of  a  new  hunting  ground ;  the  youth,  of 
the  dark-eyed  maiden  whom  he  loved;  and  the  child,  of  the 
toys  of  yesterday.  The  wind  was  up,  and  wailed  a  solemn  an- 
them as  it  swept  through  the  dark  pines.  The  owl  was  noise- 
lessl}''  flying  from  tree  to  tree,  and  the  beautiful  whippoorwill 
was  sleeping.  The  splash  of  a  leaping  fish,  or  the  howl  of  a 
wolf,  were  the  only  sounds  that  fell  upon  my  ear,  and  most  im- 
pressive was  the  hour. 


LEECH  LAKE. 


Leech  liA^K  lies  in  the  midst  of  a  forest,  mostly  coniposeil 
of  pine,  maple,  oak,  clra  and  tamarack.  It  ia  supposed  to  be 
about  forty  miles  in  longtb,  and  perhaps^  twenty  to  i  enty-'fivc 
in  width.  Its  shores  arc  very  irregular,  it  contains  a  ntinibcr 
of  largo  islands,  and  a  trading  post  of  some  antiquity.  It  de- 
rives its  name  (Casagasque)  from  the  story,  that  the  first  man 
who  discovered  it,  saw  in  it  a  leech  that  was  wider  across  the  back 
than  an  ordinary  Indian  mat.  It  is  deep  and  clear,  has  a  sandy 
bottom  and  shores,  and  is  far-famed  for  its  white  fish,  though 
possessing  almost  every  other  variety  in  great  abundance. 
Three  of  its  most  prominent  islands  ar(v  known  by  the  names  of 
the  Goose,  the  Pelican,  and  the  Bear.  The  first  has  a  desolate 
appearance,  and  is  inhabited  only  by  immense  numbers  of 
water-fowl ;  the  second  is  noted  for  its  fishing  grounds  and  a 
certain  species  of  the  pelican,  said  to  be  found  only  on  its 
shores ;  and  the  third  has  a  good  soil,  is  thickly  wooded,  and 
somewhat  cultivated  by  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  own  the  lake 
and  inhabit  the  surrounding  country. 

Thil^ribo  of  people  glory  in  the  name  of  Pillagers,  and  arc 
fully  deserving  of  the  name.  If  they  happen  to  meet  a  stranger 
Indian  or  trader,  each  one  will  unceremoniously  help  himself  to 
an  article  that  he  likes,  politely  remarking  that  for  Ids  part  he 
desires  nothing  more,  after  which  they  feed  the  unfortunate 
man  well,  but  let  him  depart  with  nothing  but  a  blanket  or 
jacket.  The  Pillagers  are  a  brave,  proud,  and  warlike  people, 
but  on  account  of  their  thieving  peculiarity,  are  universally 
hated  and  feared.  But  they  are  good  hunters,  and  pay  more 
attention  to  agriculture  than  any  other  tribe  in  the  nation. 


«•••* "" 


Mm  : 


rEjU-mi; 


^  [;^  ■ «:.  .JilJKtitllfal 

■  •'■  ': h  ■illi: 

•'■>      .t,:'!i:: 


pii|l*"l ' 


80 


LEECn  LAKE. 


During  my  stay  at  Lcoch  Lako  I  had  on  opportunity  of  wit- 
nessing a  Mcdicino  Dance,  and  of  obtaining  some  information 
with  regard  to  the  Medicine  Society.  It  is  a  religious  rite,  and 
practised  on  a  great  variety  "of  occasions.  At  this  time  the 
dance  was  given  by  a  man  who  had  lost  a  relative.  The  cere- 
mony commenced  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  and  lasted  until 
the  evening  of  the  following  day ;  and  such  a  mixture  of  ridicu- 
lous dancing,  horrible  yelling,  and  uncouth  dressing,  I  never 
before  witnessed,  and  never  wish  to  witness  again.  It  seemed 
as  if  all  the  more  unearthly  creations  of  Dante  had  been  let 
loose  upon  the  earth,  and  had  sought  the  heart  of  the  wilder- 
ness, to  rejoice  at  their  freedom  and  portray  the  miseries  of 
hell.  I  would,  but  cannot,  adequately  describe  the  scene,  and 
I  can  only  expect  my  more  imaginative  readers  to  obtain  the 
faintest  idea  of  its  strange  appearance. 

White  men  and  Indians  who  have  never  been  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  Grand  Medicine,  ore  not  allowed  to  be  pre- 
sent during  the  first  part  of  the  celebration.  From  what  I  have 
seen  and  heard  about  it,  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  nothing 
in  tho  world  but  on  I^idian  and  savage  species  of  Free  Ma- 
sonry.    A  Medicine  man  would  sooner  die  than  divulge  the 
secrets  of  his  order.     Tho  ceremony  on  the  occasion  above 
mentioned,  was  performed  in  tho  immediate  vicinity  of  the  de- 
ceased ;  while  a  conversation  was  carried  on  with  the  dead,  and 
food  placed  by  its  side,  as  if  it  hod  been  a  living  and  hungry 
individual.     Then  it  was  that  their  medicine  bags  were  taken 
out,  and  as  each  Indian  has  a  certain  medicine,  or  preparation 
which  he  supposes  his  skin  to  possess,  ho  attempts  to  flfanifest 
its  virtues  on  this  occasion.     By  breathing  into  the  nostrils  of 
the  skin,  he  imports  to  it  a  particular  charm,  by  which  he  con 
cure  the  sick  or  destroy  his  enemies.     Hence  the  great  fear 
that  these  conjurors  inspire  in  all  others.     Medicine  men  sup- 
port each  other  in  every  thing  they  may  happen  individually  to 
require,  even  to  the  murder  of  an  unfortunate  child.    When  a 
man  has  passed  tho  highest  degree,  he  con  command  the  ser- 
vices of  his  brethren  for  any  purpose.     The  price  of  admission 
is  six  pieces  for  each  grade,  and  there  are  eight  grades.     By 


LBKOR  LAKB. 


81 


one  picco  they  mean  a  blanket,  a  pair  of  leggins,  a  knife,  a  gun 
or  any  other  useful  article.  The  man  who  gives  the  most  ex- 
pensive piece  is  highly  honored,  and  can  make  the  lar'^est  de- 
mands upon  the  Society,  so  that  the  older  memben  obtain 
quite  a  revenue  for  their  former  expenditures.  When  they 
wish  to  inform  a  distant  lodge  of  the  faithlessness  of  o  member, 
they  despatch  a  picco  of  tobacco ;  the  guilty  man  is  always 
known  and  Yiever  admitted ;  but  when  they  prove  true,  their 
membership  is  inherited.  The  missionaries  of  the  west  are 
inclined  to  believe  that  this  Medicine  institution  is  the  grand 
obstacle  to  the  promulgation  of  the  Christian  Religion  among 
the  Indians. 

I  also  witnessed  while  at  Leech  Lake  the  conelution  of  a 
cercmony.that  was  commenced  some  weeks  before.  There  had 
been  a  Virgin  Dance,  the  prominent  features  of  which  are  as 
follows :  All  the  virgins  of  the  village  assemble  together,  and 
scat  themselves  in  a  largo  circle.  In  the  midst  of  this  company 
are  collected  all  the  young  men  of  the  village,  who  dance  for 
the  amusement  of  the  ladies.  But  if  it  so  happens  that  one  of 
the  men  stops  suddenly,  and  points  his  finger  at  a  particular 
girl,  she  is  at  once  looked  upon  as  having  lost  her  virginity ;  if 
the  charge  is  substantiated,  the  girl  ig  disgraced ;  but  if  not,  the 
young  man  must  die.  The  conelution  that  I  alluded  to,  was 
the  execution,  in  cold  blood,  of  a  fine  looking  young  man,  who 
had  attempted,  without  cause,  to  ruin  the  reputation  of  a  girl 
by  whom  he  had  been  rejected.  In  an  unguarded  moment  he 
had  been  stabbed,  and  when  I  saw  him  he  was  weltering  in  his 
blood.  It  was  a  terrible  exhibition  of  justice  and  oruelty,  and 
made  me  partly  admire  and  then  utterly  despise  t^e  chayuster 
of  the  Indian  race. 

While  at  this  lake  a  couple  of  trappers  made  their  appear- 
ance from  the  Red  River  wilderness,  where  they  had  been 
hunting  during  the  past  winter,  but  owing  to  an  accident  had 
been  detained  from  returning  until  the  present  time.  They 
were  Half-Breeds,  and  as  wild  a  pair  of  beings  as  I  ever  beheld. 
Their  furs,  at  the  usual  prices,  would  probably  bring  them  some 
fifteen  hundred  dollars.  Their  place  of  destination  was  St. 
6 


.  •-'•■■■■■..rf*'! 


82 


LEECH  LAKE. 


«:¥m:;;::4,i 

mm 


'»^-"* H'-i 


*Klr <:. 


'  p- "=' i 


Louis,  where  each  one  had  a  wife  and  children.  Their  inteit- 
tion  was  to  remain  with  their  friends  until  November,  when  they 
would  dive  into  the  wilderness  again. 

I  only  heard  three  legends  at  Leech  Lake.  One  gives  the  origin 
of  a  certain  miniature  whirlpool,  which  may  be  seen  on  the  south 
side  of  the  lake.  A  couple  of  Chippewa  women,  while  cross- 
ing in  a  canoe,  were  pursued  by  Sioux  Indians,  but  the  Lake 
Spirit,  out  of  compassion  for  their  misfortune,  strtkck  the  water 
with  his  wings  and  opened  an  easy  pathway  to  the  Spirit  Land. 
The  second  story  is  about  Pelican  Island.  It  is  said  that  no 
Indian  ever  visited  it  without  being  caught  in  a  storm ;  and 
that  it  has  for  centuries  been  inhabited  by  strange  people. 
They  were  never  visible  excepting  from  the  main  shore,  for 
when  the  island  was  searched  no  tracks  or  wigwam-poles  could 
be  seen,  nothing  but  rocks,  grass,  and  reeds.  At  the  present 
time,  none  bat  the  bravest  daro  land  upon  its  shore  with  their 
canoes. 

The  third  legend  that  I  heard  was  about  a  famous  battle  once 
fought,  between  the  gods  of  tho  white  man  and  the  red  man. 
A  great  many  summers  ago,  a  race  of  white  people  made  their 
appearance  on  the  shores  of  this  country,  and  as  they  were  a 
strange  people,  the  red  men  of  the  wilderness  were  disposed  to 
love  them.  As  the  former  were  very  poor,  the  latter  presented 
them  with  a  few  acres  of  land  to  cultivate.  As  the  white  men 
increased  in  numbers,  they  craved  more  land,  but  the  red  men 
would  not  yield  to  their  extravagant  solicitations.  In  the  mean 
time  the  strange  people  were  becoming  powerful.  In  process 
of  time  the  Big  Manito  became  displeased  with  them,  and  was 
detesmined  that  this  usurpation  should  cease.  Kc  visited  the 
white  man's  god,  and  told  him  that  he  must  take  back  l.s  am- 
bitious children.  The  white  man's  god  replied  that  he  would 
do  no  such  thing,  but  was  determined  to  prolect  his  own. 
Manito  then  told  him  that  the  question  must  be  decided  by 
battle.  A  famous  battle  was  fought,  and  tho  white  man's  god 
triumphed.  He  took  Manito  prisoner,  and  tied  him  to  an  oak 
with  hickory  saplings,  but  he  finally  made  his  escape,  and  with 
his  children  took  up  his  home  in  the  more  remote  wilderness. 


i'iii  i' 


LBEOU  LAKB. 


88 


The  region  of  Leech  Lake  is  somewhat  famous  for  the  quap- 
titj  and  good  quality  of  the  original  maize  or  Indian  corn. 
When  I  was  there  it  was  not  sufficiently  advanced  to  be  eaten, 
even  in  a  green  state,  but  I  obtained  a  fact  with  regard  to  corn 
planting,  which  may  be  new  to  my  readers.  All  the  labor  con- 
nected with  the  raising  of  corn  is  performed  by  the  women, 
who  take  it  upon  themselves  as  an  offset  i^  the  hardships  en- 
dured by  the  men  in  hunting.  It  is  customary  for  them  after 
they  have  planted  the  seed,  to  perform,  in  a  state  of  nudity,  a 
nocturnal  walk  through  the  field,  which  ceremony  is  supposed 
to  protect  the  grain  from  the  destroying  insect  or  worm. 

During  my  stay  at  this  lake  I  received  from  my  friend  Mor- 
rison, the  following  facts  with  regard-  to  the  game  now  inhabit- 
ing this  region.  The  black  bear,  the  black  and  gray  wolf,  the 
elk,  the  moose,  and  the  deer,  the  otter,  the  mink,  porcupine, 
white  fisher,  fox,  the  coon,  the  martin,  the  rabbit,  and  a  variety 
of  squirrels  are  as  abundant  as  ever ;  the  grizzly  bear  and  buf- 
falo are  found  only  occasionally ;  and  the  beaver  is  entirely 
extinct.  Among  the  birds  that  I  saw  were  eagles,  fish-hawks, 
night-hawks,  owls,  loons,  the  swan,  the  crane,  a  great  variety 
of  ducks,  the  pigeon,  the  woodpecker,  blue-jay,  black  and  blue- 
bird, red-bird,  and  the  king-bird ;  and  among  the  fish  that  may 
be  found  in  Leech  Lake,  are  the  white-fish,  the  trout,  the  pike> 
the  pickerel,  the  bass,  the  sucker,  and  the  mullet.  It  is  said 
the  white-fish  of  this  lake,  originated  from  the  brains  of  a  wo- 
man ;  and  I  am  also  told  that  its  shores  have  in  times  past 
yielded  more*  wealth  in  the  way  of  furs  than  any  other  place 
of  the  same  extent  in  the  northwest,  l^ut  enough.  It  is  time 
that  I  should  close  this  desultory  paper,  else  my  reader  will 
accuse  me  of  practising  the  most  prominent  peculiarity  of  the 
animal  Leech. 


t^;J.k.-*'»*'"* 


'!    : 


!   Ihi 


Mm 


|;3!!?^«iS6j|; 


d||'(iK*iiilli 


FISH  OF  ^RB  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI. 


This  is  to  be  my  last  letter  from  the  Mississippi  valley,  and 
my  passion  for  the  gentle  art  of  angling,  will  not  allow  me  to 
leave  the  great  river  without  recounting  a  few  fishing  para* 
graphs,  as  mementos  of  my  journey  thus  far. 

The  largest  and  unquestionably  the  most  abundant  variety 
of  fish  found  in  the  Lower  Mississippi  is  the  cat-fish,  and  here 
I  believe  they  are  found  in  the  greatest  perfection.  They  vary 
from  one  to  six  feet  in  length,  and  in  weight  from  three  lo  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  As  an  article  of  food  they  do  not 
amount  to  much,  and  yet  I  have  met  with  many  people  who 
considered  them  a  great  delicacy.  They  are  invariably  taken 
with  the  hook,  and  to  those  who  admire  muddy  water,  and  love 
to  handle  the  ugliest  of  creatures,  capturing  them  must  be  a 
fascinating  amusement.  They  are  caught  and  eaten  at  all  sea- 
sons of  the  year. 

Another  fish  which  abounds  in  the  turbid  portion  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi is  called  by  the  western  people  a  perch,'  but  is  in  fact 
only  a  sheep's-head.  They  are  most  abundant  in  the  spring. 
They  vary  from  one  to  eight  pounds  in  weight,  and  as  an  arti- 
cle of  food  are  about  on  a  par  with  cat-fish.  The  above  men- 
tioned fish  are  the  principal  varieties  which  may  be  said  to 
flourish  in  the  Lower  Mississippi ;  it  is  true,  however,  that  spe- 
cimens of  almost  every  species  of  fresh  water  fish  are  occa- 
sionally taken.  The  baits  used  for  the  cat-fish  and  sheep's-head 
are  pieces  of  fresh  meat.  Almost  every  stea'^aboat  on  the  river 
is  well  supplied  with  cotton  lines  and  common  hooks,  and  the 
principal  anglers  for  this  fish  are  steamboat  hands  and  raftsmen. 


■■VI 


FISH  OF  THB  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI. 


85 


But  I  must  confess  that  I  made  a  number  of  attempts  to  cap- 
ture one  of  these  monsters.  The  adventure  took  place  after 
the  following  manner.  Our  boat  had  stopped  at  Alton  in  the 
evening,  and  was  to  remain  there  until  about  midnight.  The 
river  was  without  a  ripple,  and  the  marvellous  beauty  of  the 
surrounding  landscape  threw  me  into  a  romantic  mood ;  and 
tipping  the  wink  to  one  of  my  companions  to  accompany  me, 
we  took  an  assortment  of  tackle  with  about  two  pounds  of  beef, 
and  jumped  into  a  skiff  for  an  hour's  sport.  We  pulled  for  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  having  moored  our  shallop  at 
the  mouth  of  a  bayou,  baited  our  hooks,  and  threw  them  in. 
We  had  sat  in  silence  just  long  enough  to  watch  the  shooting 
into  darkness  of  a  star,  when  ray  line  was  suddenly  made 
taut,  and  I  knew  that  I  had  a  prize.  I  gave  the  fellow 
about  one  hundred  feet  of  line,  and  he  made  use  of  his  "largest 
liberty"  by  swimming  around  a  certain  snag,  which  of  course 
was  annoying  and  greatly  increased  my  excitement.  I  managed, 
however,  to  disentangle  my  victim  after  a  while,  and  in  due 
time  had  him  safely  ensconced  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  His 
length  was  nearly  four  feet,  and  his  weight  must  have  been  up- 
wards of  sixty  pounds.  While  we  were  recrossing  the  river  to 
reach  our  steamboat,  a  savage  little  steamer  from  Keokuk 
came  rushing  down^  ahead  of  another  with  which  it  was  racing, 
and  passed  so  very  near  our  shallop  that  we  were  swamped,  and 
while  my  companion  and  myself  were  swimming  to  the  shore 
for  dear  life,  the  monster  we  had  captured  waS  probably  scoot- 
ing away  towards  the  Torrid  Zone,  not  much  injured,  but  a 
good  deaf  frightened.  About  two  hours  after  that  adventure, 
I  was  the  victim  of  the  nightmare,  for  I  dreamed  that  I  was 
dying  from  strangulation. 

Before  taking  my  leave  of  the  cat-fish  I  must  transcribe  a 
description  of  him  as  recorded  by  Father  Marquette : — "  We 
saw  also  a  very  hideous  sea  monster ;  his  head  was  like  that  of 
a  tiger,  but  his  nose  was  somewhat  sharper,  and  like  a  wild-cat ; 
his  beard  was  long,  his  ears  stood  upright,  the  color  of  his  head 
being  gray  and  neck  black.  He  looked  upon  us  for  some  time ; 
but  as  we  came  near  him,  our  oars  frightened  him  away." 


i,  '  V 


,,..  fcwl'f " 


irtnaiwiiil 


Sill 


'■'  "'■ii,„  ■  •* 


i,l;|!.,|.     ■'!  ,j 


I 


"*  ''"'li!il||i  i,,| 


„  ^_^  . .,.,  ,ii!K;Stl!JSIjt 


......,,; 


l||'iiiiHi;iiiil|ij 
■  ■  iiiuiiMiwiiiii*,,; 


f:^,i|'*'!''««.(,^ 


86 


FISH  OF  THE  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI. 


This  is  about  as  near  the  truth  as  Marquette  ever  arrived, 
but  every  one  acquainted  \rith  the  cat-fish  of  the  Mississippi 
will  readily  perceive  the  resemblance  of  the  description  to  the 
original. 

I  would  now  descant  upon  the  fish  of  the  Upper  Mississippi. 
The  largest  is  the  sturgeon,  of  which  there  are  too  varieties, 
the  common  and  the  long-billed  sturgeon.  *"  They  constitute  a 
staple  article  of  food  with  the  Indians,  who  take  them  with 
gill-nets  and  the  spear.  Their  manner  of  preserving  them  is 
by  drying  and  smoking.  In  size  they  vary  from  three  to  eight 
feet  in  length,  weighing  from  thirty  to  one  hundred  and  thirty 
pounds.  Like  all  the  larger  fish  of  the  Mississippi,  their  flavor 
is  far  from  being  delicate.  With  the  sturgeon,  which  is  a 
plebeian  fish,  I  am  disposed  to  class  the  mullet,  sucker,  rock- 
bass,  sun-fish,  bill-fish,  bull-head,  and  chub,'  and  can  a£Srm 
from  personal  knowledge  that  all  these  fish  are  abundant  in  the 
Mississippi. 

They  are  in  their  prime  in  the  spring,  but  very  few  of  them 
are  fit  to  eat  in  summer.  With  the  Indians,  however,  they  are 
eaten  at  all  seasons,  and  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  fish  in  their 
country  which  they  did  not  use  as  an  article  of  food.  Pickerel 
and  perch  also  abound  in  all  the  waters  of  this  region,  but  I  do 
not  consider  them  equal  to  the  same  varieties  in  New  England. 
All  the  larger  lakes  that  help  to  swell  the  Upper  Mississippi  arc 
well  supplied  with  white  fish,  the  best  of  which  are  found  in 
Leech  Lake.  As  an  article  of  food  they  excel  all  the  fish  of 
the  northwest,  but  as  they  are  of  the  shad  genus,  the  angler 
can  only  praise  them  in  the  abstract.  • 

The  Indians  employ  a  great  variety  of  modes  for  taking  all 
these  fish,  but  the  gill-net,  the  spear,  and  the  bow  and  arrow, 
are  the  more  successful  ones. 

But  the  regular  game  fish  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  are  the 
muskalounge,  pike,  black  bass,  and  trout ;  and  of  these  it  al- 
ways affords  me  unfeigned  pleasure  to  discourse.  The  two 
former  varieties  are  so  nearly  alike  in  appearance  and  habits 
that  I  am  disposed  to  speak  of  them  as  one  and  the  same  thing. 
Formerly  I  entertained  the  opinion  that  a  muskalounge  was 


9I8H  OF  THE  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI. 


87 


only  an  overgrown  pike,  but  within  the  past  year  I  have  com- 
pared them  together,  and  am  convinced  that  they  are  materially 
different.  Their  habits,  however,  are  precisely  alike.  They 
are  exceedingly  abundant  in  the  sluggish  waters  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  vary  from  five  to  fifty  pounds  in  weight.  They  are 
in  season  about  nine  months  of  the  year,  but  in  the  spring,  at 
which  time  they  ascend  the  river  to  spawn,  are  in  their  prime. 
It  is  well  known  that  these  fish  are  bold  biters :  but  the  pike 
is  unquestionably  the  most  active  and  cunning  of  the  two,  and 
consequently  the  most  valuable  to  the  angler.  The  muska- 
lounge  is  somewhat  of  a  sluggard,  and  owing  to  his  size  and 
hyena-like  character,  the  very  fish  of  all  others  for  spearing 
by  torchlight.  The  handsomest  pike  I  ever  had  the  pleasure 
of  capturing  was  a  resident  of  Lake  Pepin.  I  was- sauntering 
along  the  base  of  one  of  the  rocky  bluffs  of  this  beautiful  sheet 
of  water,  and  had  spent  most  of  the  day  without  success,  *'";"'"^ 
to  take  a  trout  with  a  mammoth  fly.  I  had  thrown  out  my  line 
for  the  last  time,  when,  as  I  was  carelessly  winding  it  up,  I 
was  astonished  by  a  sudden  leap  within  twenty  feet  of  me,  and 
in  a  moment  more  it  was  whizzing  through  the  water  in  fine 
style.  I  humored  the  gentleman  for  about  ten  minutes,  lead- 
ing him  meanwhile  towards  a  sand-bar,  whcrn  I  secured  and 
placed  him  in  my  canoe.  He  weighed  upwards  of  twenty-one 
pounds,  was  very  fat,  had  a  black  back  and  silvery  belly. 

My  best  muskaU  'inge  fishing  occurred  at  a  bend  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi, about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  above  the  Falls  of 
Saint  Anthony.  I  took  them  with  a  spear  and  by  torch-light, 
standing  in  the  bow  of  a  canoe  which  was  propelled  by  an  In- 
dian. Noiselessly  did  our  birchen  torch  glide  into  a  thousand 
nooks  of  the  stream,  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  with  a  couple  of 
deluded  followers.  I  took  no  note  of  time  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  and  the  only  thing  which  preventtd  me  from  fishing 
until  morning,  was  the  fog  which  covered  the  river  about  mid- 
night. We  landed,  however,  with  a  sufllcient  quantity  of  fish 
to  supply  the  whole  encampment  of  Indians  for  at  least  three 
days,  and  among  them  were  seven  specimens  of  the  muska- 
lounge, — the  remainder  being  composed  of  small  fry  in  gen- 


i 


IJ'lllJlli 


iH  ■ 


88 


FISH. OF  THE  VPPBR  MISSISSIPPI. 


., ,   I 

1  .     'i  ' 


Cjj .iji'ij 


|,..i- *irf 


kJ. 


i.:.'!»^^ 


1^ 


eral.  On  opening  one  of  my  prizes,  an  immense  black  snake 
was  found  in  its  bowels,  frodi  wbich  time  I  date  my  antipathy 
to  this  fishy  genus  as  an  article  of  food. 

The  best,  and  one  of  the  most  universal  fish  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, is  the  black  bass.  They  vary  from  one  to  seven  pounds 
in  weight,  are  taken  with  a  fly,  the  minnow  and  the  frog,  and 
in  my  opinion,  as  a  game  fish,  are  only  second  to  the  trout. 
They  are  found  in  great  abundance  at  all  the  rapids  in  the 
river,  but  afforded  me  the  finest  sport  at  the  Falls  of  Saint 
Anthony.  When  I  was  there  the  water  was  uncommonly  low, 
so  that  pool  fishing  was  in  its  prime,  and  I  enjoyed  it  to  per- 
fection. I  captured  no  less  than  thirty-five  superb  bass  in  the 
space  of  two  hours,  and  that  too,  without  once  moving  the 
anchor  of-  my  boat.  I  took  them  with  a  hand-line,  baiting 
with  a  minnow,  and  tHe  majority  of  them  weighed  over  two 
pounds  apiece. 

The  only  respectable  trout  region  of  the  Mississippi  ex- 
tends from  Prairie  du  Chien  to  Lake  St.  Croix.  An  expert 
angler  may  here  capture  an  occasional  pounder,  out  of  the 
river  itself;  but  the  rarest  of  sport  is  afforded  by  all  the  neigh- 
boring brooks,  which  run  through  a  hilly  country,  and  are 
rapid,  rocky,  and  clear.  The  trout  of  these  streams  average 
about  eight  ounces  in  weight.  As  1  sailed  up  the  Alpine  por- 
tion of  the  river  in  a  steamboat,  my  opportunities  for  wetting 
the  line  were  not  frequent  or  particularly  successful,  as  the 
following  illustration  will  testify. 

I  had  just  arisen  from  the  breakfast  table,  when  the  pilot  of 
the  boat  informed  me  that  he  was  -about  to  be  delayed  for  two 
hours,  and  that  there  was  a  fine  trout  stream  a  little  farther  on, 
which  I  might  investigate.  I  immediately  hailed  a  couple  of 
my  travelling  companions,  and  with  our  rods  in  prime  order, 
we  all  started'  for  the  unknown  stream.  Owing  to  a  huge  rock 
that  lay  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  we  were  compelled  to  make 
an  extensive  circuit  over  a  number  of  briar-covered  hills,  and 
we  found  the  bed  of  our  pilot's  trout  brook  without  a  particle 
of  water.  What  aggravated  our  condition  was  the  intense  heat 
of  the  sun.    In  about  an  hour,  however,  we  succeeded  in  reaoh- 


FISH  OF  THE  UPPER  MISSISSIPPI. 


Sd 


iDg  the  Mississippi  once  more,  and  there,  comfortably  seated 
in  the  shadow  of  a  bluff,  we  threw  out  our  lines  and  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  boat.  We  happened  to  be  in  the  vicinity  of 
a  deep  hole,  out  of  which  we  brought  five  black  bass,  weighing 
three  or  four  pounds  apiece.  We  did  not  capture  a  single 
trout,  but  the  sight  of  one  immense  fellow  that  I  lost,  agitated 
my  nerves.  Something  very  heavy  had  siezed  my  hook,  and 
after  Inlaying  it  for  some  minutes  I  was  about  to  land  it,  when 
I  saw  that  it  was  a  trout,  (it  must  have  weighed  some  three 
pounds,)  but  making  a  sudden  leap,  it  snapped  my  line,  and 
was,  like  a  great  many  objects  in  this  world,  entirely  out  of  my 
reach ;  and  then  I  was  the  victim  of  a  loud  and  long  laugh. 
The  only  thing  that  kept  me  from  falling  into  a  settled  melan- 
choly was  the  incident  which  immediately  followed.  When 
the  boat  came  along,  a  Frenchman  who  was  a  passenger,  and 
happened  to  have  a  canoe  floating  at  the  stern,  volunteered  his 
services  to  take  us  on  board  the  steamer.  Knowing  that  my 
friends  had  never  been  in  a  canoe  before,  I  would  not  embark 
with  them,  and  in  about  two  minutes  I  had  the  pleaaure  of  see- 
ing them  capsized,  and  after  they  had  become  completely 
soaked,  of  seeing  them  rescued  from  all  danger  minus  the  three 
fine  bass  which  they  had  taken.  This  feat  was  performed  in 
the  presence  of  quite  a  number  of  ladies,  and  to  the  tune  of  a 
hqarty  peal  of  laughter. 


i 


M^t  > 


^r^-0 


t« 


SANDY  LAKE. 


**^i'/ 


'vH 


M  '".' 


iS&: 


Mir'^^^:,riM 


W^^ 


I  NOW  write  from  the  margin  of  a  stream  which  empties  into 
Lake  Superior,  toward  which  I  am  impatiently  pursuing  my 
way.  Sandy  Lake,  where  ended  my  voyaging  on  the  Missis- 
sippi, is  one  of  the  most  famous  lakes  of  the  northwest.  It 
lies  only  about  two  miles  east  of  the  great  river,  and  almost 
directly  west  from  Lake  Superior.  Over  the  intervening  route 
which  connects  the  two  water  wonders  of  our  country,  more 
furs  and  Indian  goods  have  been  transported,  than  over  any 
other  trail  in  the  wilderness.  The  lake  received  its  name  from 
the  French,  on  account  of  its  sandy  shores,  which  are  remark- 
ably beautiful,  abounding  in  agates  and  cornelians.  There  is  a 
trading  post  here,  which  is  said  to  have  been  established  ninety 
years  ago ;  and  in  a  certain  log  cabin  which  was  pointed  out  to 
me,  I  was  told  furs  had  been  stored,  to  the  value  of  fifty  mil- 
lions of  dollars. 

The  shores  of  this  lake  are  hilly,  full  of  beautiful  islands, 
upon  one  of  which  we  breakfasted,  and  presents  a  most  inter- 
esting appearance.  The  water  is  clear  and  abounds  in  fish,  of 
which  the  black  bass,  the  pike,  and  white-fish  are  the  most 
abundant.  . 

The  voyager  in  pursuing  this  route  always  finds  it  necessary 
to  make  a  number  of  portages.  Thg  original  manner  in  which 
I  performed  one  of  these  I  will  briefly  describe. 

When  the  company  to  which  I  belonged  had  landed  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  Sandy  Lake,  I  immediately  inquired  for  the 
trail,  seized  my  gun  and  started  on  ahead,  hoping  that  I  might 
succeed  in  killing  a  few  pigeons  for  supper.     The  path  was 


SANDY  LAKB. 


91 


well  beaten,  the  scenery  interesting,  and  I  went  on  with  a  light 
heart  and  a  head  full  of  fantastic  images  born  of  the  wild  forest. 
The  only  creature  in  the  way  of  game  that  I  saw  was  a  large 
red  deer,  which  suddenly  startled  me  by  a  shrill  snort,  and 
bounded  away  as  if  in  scorn  of  my  locomotive  powers.  Soon 
as  my  hair  was  fairly  settled  to  its  natural  smoothness  on  my 
head,  (how  very  uncomf  stable  it  is  to  bo  frightened ! )  the  deer 
made  a  dignified  pause,  anil  I  attempted  to  draw  near  by  dodg- 
ing along  behind  the  trees. 

Soon  as  I  was  through  dodging,  I  looked  up  and  found  that 
my  game  was  missing,  and  I  therefore  wheeled  about  to  resume 
my  journey.  My  intention  was  reasonable  and  lawful,  but 
then  arose  the  thought,  what  direction  shall  I  pursue  ?  The 
more  I  pondered  the  more  my  wonder  grew,  and  after  a  series 
of  ineffectual  rambles,  I  finally  concluded  that  I  had  lost  my 
way,  and  must  spend  the  night,  literally  speaking,  "  in  the 
wilderncps  alone."  I  now  record  my  tale  without  emotion,  but 
my  feelings  and  reflections  on  that  occasion  were  uncomfortable 
in  the  extreme. 

Aftor  wandering  about  the  woods  until  my  feet  were  blii^- 
tered,  I  concluded  to  pitch  my  tent  for  the  night,  although  the 
only  things  I  bad  with  me  to  make  mo  comfortable  in  my  soli- 
tude, were  an  unloaded  gun,  a  horn  half  full  of  powder,  and 
my  shot-bag,  empty  of  shot  and  balls.  I  happened  to  be  in  a 
deep  valley,  which  was  entirely  covered  with  pine  trees.  One 
of  them  had  two  large  branches  that  shot  out  together  about  a 
dozen  feet  from  the  ground,  and  as  I  had  no  sure  way  of  keep- 
ing off  an  enemy,  I  managed  to  climb  up  to  them,  and  there 
spent  the  night,  without  once  budging  from  my  interesting 
roost. 

I  was  not  visited  by  any  goblins  on  that  memorable  night, 
but  the  actual  miseries  which  ministered  to  me  during  the  dark 
hours  were  quite  numerous.  In  the  first  place,  I  had  to  watch 
the  deepening  shadows  of  the  evening,  tormented  by  hunger 
and  thirst.  Instead  of  having  an  opportunity  to  satisfy  my 
own  appetite,  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  musquitos  of  the  wilder- 
ness had  assembled  together  for  the  purpose  of  having  a  feast 


i 


92 


SANDY  LAKE. 


.vi»;'  ;i,;,;^ 


it*-*" 


m*»' 


l««H*»' 


..■iif,,. 
ii " 


Erf 


k.i.*4|»''?!(( 


ifN?iK«esji 


Riiiini 


miilil 


,i»Bii'«M»ihii;^, 


')'*ii'^^' 


I  * » «>  i 


on  my  own  flesh  and  blood.  But  nature  granted  me  a  brief 
respite  from  this  torment,  by  causing  a  shower  to  fall,  which 
had  a  tendency  to  cool  my  feverish  lips  and  brow,  and  allowed 
me  a  little  sleep. 

But  this  blessedness  was  soon  ended,  for  in  a  fit  of  the  night- 
mare I  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  falling  to  the  ground. 
After  I  had  fairly  recovered  myself,  and  again  drank  in  the 
horrors  of  a  musquito  dirge,  I  almost  made  up  my  mind  to 
drop  at  any  rate,  and  thereby  end  my  life  and  the  enjoyment 
of  my  infernal  enemies. 

But  there  was  soon  another  change  in  the  character  of  my 
miseries.  An  immense  owl  had  the  impudence  to  perch  him- 
self on  a  limb  above  my  head,  whence  he  poured  forth  a  flood 
of  the  most  horrible  screaming  that  mortal  ever  heard.  Soon 
OS  the  echoes  thus  awakened  had  melted  into  silence,  a  crack- 
ling sound  fell  upon  my  ear,  and  I  beheld  an  old  bear,  straggling 
along,  as  if  he  was  sure  of  enjoying  a  feast  of  fresh  meat. 

Ho  halted  and  snuffed  around  the  base  of  a  tree,  which  stood 
only  a  few  yards  distant  from  tlio  one  I  occupied,  and  then 
continued  on  his  way.  Ho  seemed  to  know  that  human  feet 
had  lately  trodden  the  valley,  but  rationally  concluding  that  no 
sensible  man  would  remain  in  that  particular  region  any  longer 
than  he  could  possibly  help  it,  he  did  not  trouble  himself  about 
the  scent  he  had  discovered.  I  felt  grateful  towards  the  old 
savage  for  his  unintentional  politeness,  but  if  my  gun  had  been 
loaded  with  only  one  ball,  I  should  have  favored  him  with  an 
unexpected  salute. 

The  hours  which  followed  this  event,  and  preceded  the  dawn, 
were  the  longest  that  I  ever  experienced.  My  wretchedness  was 
indescribable ;  I  was  cold  and  hungry,  and  in  want  of  sleep, 
but  morning  came  at  last,  and  with  it  the  warm  bright  sunshine 
and  the  silence  of  the  Sabbath ;  only  a  loud  clear  chorus  of 
sweetest  melody  echoed  through  the  pine  forest  valley,  from 
the  throats,  of  a  thousand  birds. 

On  descending  from  my  elevated  position,  I  ascended  a  Vigh 
hill,  from  whose  summit  I  could  look  down  upon  a  beautiful 
lake,  where  I  saw  my  fellow  travellers  all  quietly  afloat  in  their 


m  f 


SANDY  LAKH. 


98 


canoes.  I  loaded  my  gun  with  powder  and  fired  a  signal,  which 
was  answered  by  a  deafening  shout,  that  was  far  sweeter  to 
my  ears  at  that  particular  moment  than  even  the  song  of  birds. 
When  the  Indians  who  had  been  hunting  after  mo  had  returned, 
and  when  I  resumed  my  seat  in  the  canoe,  and  had  a  slice  of 
cold  pork  between  my  fingers,  I  was  quite  happy,  in  spite  of 
the  many  jokes  cracked  at  my  expense. 


I"      V 


*''••  h,      \ 


-'T   ""■"""""3 


WM 


»ir«iW''":"r"'"i-'«,' 


fiflEltl'"'"""*....    1"! 


^||j!;':'*i!l|v':#i*i|ii 

1:1:,  i-i^'lkik     IJill' 


THE   SAINT  LOUIS  RIVER. 


Bv  looking  on  tho  map  you  will  ubHcrve  that  this  river  enters 
Lake  Superior  on  tho  extreme  west.  I  had  not  the  means  of 
ascertaining  its  precise  length,  but  was  told  that  above  the 
Savannah,  vrhore  I  struck  it,  it  is  an  inconsiderable  stream. 
From  that  point  to  tho  lake  it  is  quite  a  majoetic  river,  and  I 
should  suppose  the  distance  to  be  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  It  has  more  tho  appearance  of  a  vrild  New  England 
river  than  any  other  that  I  have  seen  in  tho  western  country. 
It  id  exceedingly  rocky,  and  so  full  of  sunken  boulders  and 
dangerous  rapids,  that  it  never  could  be  made  navigable  further 
up  than  Fond  du  Lac,  which  is  twenty  miles  from  Lake  Supe- 
rior. The  water  is  clear,  but  of  a  rich  snuff  color,  owing  pro- 
bably to  tho  swamps  out  of  which  it  runs.  It  is  said  to  rise  and 
fall  very  suddenly.  Its  entire  shores  are  without  a  solitary 
habitatioi]i  (excepting  at  the  trading  post  already  mentioned,) 
and  tho  scenery  is  picturesque,  wild  and  romantic.  But  I  hear 
the  roar  of  its  cataracts,  and  must  attempt  a  description  of 
them. 

There  is  a  place  on  this  river  called  tho  Knife  Portage,  from 
the  fact  that  the  rocks  hero  are  e;:r^r  ^dingly  sharp  and  pointed, 
where  the  stream  forms  a  large  bend,  and  where  the  voyageur 
has  to  make  a  portage  of  twelve  miles.  The  length  of  this  bend 
may  be  sixteen  miles,  and  in  that  distance  tho  water  has  a  fall  of 
about  threo  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  The  width  of  the  river 
may  be  from  three  to  four  hundred  yards.  At  this  point  (just 
above  Fond  du  Lac)  are  three  nameless  waterfalls,  whose 
dimensions  are  indeed  stupendous.    The  water  of  one  tumbles 


run  8AlMt  LOUl.S  UtVBll. 


05 


0V6r  a  pile  of  poiiiu  1  rocks,  aiut  uftcr  twisting  itself  into  evory 
possible  variety  of  schutcH  and  foaming  streams,  finally  mur- 
murs itself  to  sloop  in  a  pool  eighty  feet  below  the  summit 
whence  it  takes  its  first  leap.  • 

Another  fall,  or  rather  cataract,  is  not  far  from  one  hundred 
feet  high,  and  the  water  at  times  rushes  over  almost  in  a  solid 
and  unbroken  body. 

The  walla  of  slate  on  either  side  are  lofty,  and  '*  crowned 
with  a  peculiar  diadem  of  trees;"  and  as  the  roaring  of  the  fall 
is  deafening,  its  effect  upon  me  was  allied  to  that  of  Niagara. 
The  pools  at  the  bottom  appeared  to  bo  black  and  fathomless, 
the  spray  whiter  than  snow,  and  the  rainbows  beautiful  beyond 
comparison.  When  I  gazed  upon  the  features  of  this  superb 
water-wonder,  united  as  they  were  in  one  completo  picture ; 
when  I  listened  to  tho  scream  of  the  eagle  mingling  ^^ith  the 
roar,  and  thought  of  tho  uninhabited  wilderness  in  every  direc- 
tion around  mo,  I  was  most  deeply  impressed. 

I  visited  this  cataract  accompanied  by  a  party  of  Indians, 
and  owing  to  the  length  of  time  it  took  us  to  reach  it,  we  were 
compelled  to  spend  tho  night  in  its  immediate  vicinity.  Wo 
built  our  watch-fire  on  the  southern  shore,  in  a  sheltering  bay, 
about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  highest  leap,  and  on  a  spot 
where  we  could  command  a  complete  view  of  tho  superb  pic- 
ture. 

Our  supper  on  that  occasion  was  composed  exclusively  of 
venison,  as  one  of  the  party  had  succeeded  in  killing  a  deer  in 
one  of  his  morning  excursions ;  and  though  I  had  not  eaten  for 
nine  or  ten  hours,  I  seemed  to  have  lost  my  appetite,  and  took 
my  food  merely  as  a  matter  of  necessity.  After  our  repast 
was  ended,  two  of  the  Indians  lighted  their  birchen  torches 
and  jumped  into  a  canoe  for  the  purpose  of  spearing  fish.  I 
watched  them  with  peculiar  interest,  and  saw  them  perform  one 
feat  which  was  truly  wonderful.  They  had  wounded  an  im- 
mense pike  on  a  shoal,  very  near  a  column  of  the  falling  ele- 
ment, when  the  stricken  creature  floundered  away  into  the 
foaming  water,  and  the  canoe  darted  on  in  quick  pursuit,  as  if 
its  inmati^A  were  determined  to  capture  or  die.    One  moment  it 


; 

f'.'- 

i 

WIIMKM'I"" 

i4  I 


p(' 

1 

'  1 

f  . 

.     ■  ••• 

■   ■  'i 

4  i<«*<M  t 

::t:::::'t».fc 

|'::s;: 

'^ 

' .  ■.  ?,  ^ 

„  ..;*- 

i.:.j 

£'»■■■*  hm.i. 


||i;,,m'!':-™--'-*...; 
\h ■"" -■•.. 

I  ■!     ■ 
■i'*»"!S,'l»""w<..,        '1 


m s  ,1 


96 


THE  SAINT  LOUIS  RIVBR. 


Pli:r 


seemed  as  if  the  torrent  of  water  must  be  pouring  into  the 
canoe,  and  the  torches  be  extinguished,  and  then  again,  I  could 
only  see  a  halo  of  light,  looking  like  the  sun  rising  at  mid- 
night, as  the  fishermen  glided  behind  a  sheet  of  water  or  a 
cloud  of  spray.  They  were  successful  in  their  sport,  and  finally 
returned  and  presented  their  prize  at  my  feet.  The  party  then 
enjoyed  a  pipe  for  about  twenty  minutes,  when  the  younger 
Indians  commenced  playing  their  favorite  moccasin  game,  and 
I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  evening  conversing  with  the  chief 
and  patriarch  of  th  .-  uand,  from  whom  I  gathered  the  following 
tradition  respecting  the  cataract: 

"More  moons  ago  than  I  can  count,"  said  the  old  man,  "the 
country  lying  between  the  big  lake  (Superior)  and  the  place 
where  the  sun  goes  down,  was  owned  by  the  Sioux  nation,  which 
was  then  immensely  powerful.  They  were  very  cruel -in  their 
warfare,  and  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to  annihilate  the 
Chippewa  nation.  The  Great  Spirit  was  not  their  friend,  but 
ours,  and  once,  when  a  multitude  of  their  warriors  were  pur- 
suing some  of  our  hunters  down  the  river,  the  Great  Spirit 
suddenly  kicked  out  the  bottom  in  this  place,  and  the  principal 
enemies  of  our  nation  were  all  destroyed.  Since  that  time  we 
have  been  the  possessors  of  this  vast  country,  and  the  children 
of  our  ancient  enemies  catch  the  bufialo  in  a  far  distant  prairie 
land." 

With  this  legend  deeply  impressed  on  my  mind  (the  telling 
of  which  occupied  my  companion  for  iiearly  two  hours)  I  ordered 
more  wood  to  be  placed  on  the  fire,  and  leaving  the  others  to 
tike  care  of  themselves,  rolled  myself  up  in  my  blanket,  and 
was  soon  asleep.  I  was  awakened  only  once  during  the  night, 
and  that  was  by  the  distant  howl  of  a  wolf,  mingling  with  the 
solemn  anthem  of  the  cataract.  I  sat  up  for  a  moment  to  look 
upon  the  scene,  but  the  sky  was  covered  with  clouds,  and  it 
was  exceedingly  dark.  Even  the  embers  of  our  watch-fire  had 
ceased  blazing.  Around  me  lay  my  companions  in  a  deep 
sleep.  Once  more  did  I  listen  to  the  howl,  and  that  voice  of 
many  waters,  until,  like  a  frightened  child,  I  hastily  covered 
my  head,  and  went  to  sleep.     On  the  following  morning  we 


■::,,  ■||ir«      • 


THB  SAINT  LOUIS  RIVER. 


97 


resumed  our  journey  in  the  midst  of  a  rain  storm,  the  memory 
of  that  night  and  that  cataract,  however,  haunting  me  like  n 
dream.  ,  • 

The  next  perpendicular  fall  within  the  bend  I  have  men- 
tioned, is  some  two  miles  down  the  stream,  and  is  only  about 
fifty  feet  in  height,  but  its  grandeur  is  somewhat  enhanced  by 
the  rapids  which  succeed  it,  and  have  a  fall  of  some  forty  or 
fifty  feet  more.  An  old  trader  tells  me  that  I  am  the  first 
traveller  from  the  States  who  has  ever  taken  the  trouble  actually 
to  visit  these  cataracts.  If  this  is  a  fact,  and  as  the  Indians, 
so  far  as  I  can  learn,  have  never  christened  them,  I  claim  the 
privilege  of  giving  t'  em  a  name.  Let  them,  then,  be  known 
hereafter  as  the  Chippewa  Falls.  It  is  a  singular  circum- 
stance that  a  pine  tree  might  be  cut  in  this  interior  wilderness, 
and  if  launched  in  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Mississippi, 
or  in  the  Saint  Louis  River,  and  propelled  by  favorable  winds 
alone,  could,  in  process  of  time,  be  planted  in  the  hull  of  a  ship 
at  any  sea-port  on  the  globe. 

The  navigable  portior  of  the  Saint  Louis,  as  before  remarked, . 
extends  only  about  twenty  miles  from  the  lake,  at  which  point 
is  the  place  legitimately  called  Fond  du  Lac.  It  is  an  ancient 
trading  post,  and  contains  about  half  a  dozen  white  inhabitants, 
viz.,  a  worthy  missionary  and  his  interesting  family.  The  agent 
of  the  Fur  Company  and  his  assistants  are  half-breeds,  and  a 
most  godless  set  of  people  they  are.  It  is  a  genei-al  rendez- 
vous for  several  Indian  tribes,  and  when  I  was  there  was  quite 
crowded  with  the  barbarians. 

Fond  du  Lac,  so  far  as  the  scenery  is  concerned,  is  one  of 
the  most  truly  delightful  places  that  I  ever  met  with  in  my 
life.  The  first  white  man  who  traded  here  was  my  friend  Mor- 
rison, after  whom  the  highest  hill  in  the  vicinity  was  named. 
Upon  this  eminence  I  spent  a  pleasant  afternoon,  revelling 
over  a  landscape  of  surpassing  loveliness.  Far  below  me  lay 
an  extensive  natural  meadow,  on  the  left  of  which  was  a  pretty 
lake,  and  on  the  right  a  little  hamlet  composed  of  log  cabins 
and  bark  wigwams.  The  broad  valley  of  the  Saint  Louis  faded 
away  to  the  east,  studded  with  islands,  and  protected  on  either 
t 


''""m 


\i\<  •>: 


iL»i(#*'"** 


.,''!' 


|»*i)) 


Pii' 


98 


THE  SAINT  LOUIS  RIVER. 


side  by  a  range  of  high  wood-crowned  hills,  beyond  which  re- 
posed in  its  conscious  pride  the  mighty  lake-wonder  of  the 
world.  The  atmosphere  which  rested  ypon  the  whole  scene 
seemed  to  halo  every  feature,  and  with  the  occasional  tinkling 
of  a  solitary  cow-bell,  combined  to  fill  my  heart  with  inde- 
scribable pleasure. 

Most  of  my  rambles  about  this  place,  were  performed  in  com- 
pany with  the  missionary  already  mentioned.  He  informed 
me  that  the  surrounding  country  abounded  in  rich  copper  ore, 
in  agates  and  cornelians  of  the  first  water,  and  that  all  the 
smaller  streams  of  the  country  afforded  rare  trout  fishing.  If 
this  end  of  Lake  Superior  should  become,  as  I  doubt  not  it 
will,  famous  for  its  mines,  Fond  du  Lac  would  bo  a  most  agree- 
able place  to  reside  in,  as  it  is  easily  reached  by  vessels.  1 
was  hospitably  entertained  by  this  gentleman,  and  could  not 
but  contrast  the  appearance  of  his  dwelling  Avith  that  of  his 
neighbor  the  French  trader.  In  the  one  you  might  see  a  small 
library,  a  large  family  Bible,  the  floor  covered  with  matting, 
&c.,  a  neat,  tidy,  and  intelligent  wife,  and  children ;  in  the 
other,  a  pack  of  cards,  a  barrel  of  whisky,  a  stack  of  guns, 
and  a  family  whose  filthiness  was  only  equalled  by  the  total 
ignorance  of  its  various  members.  And  this  contrast  only  in- 
adequately portrays  the  difference  between  Christianity  and 
heathenism. 

I  left  Fond  du  Lac  about  day-break,  with  a  retinue  of 
some  twenty  canoes,  which  were  freighted  with  Indians  bound 
to  a  payment  at  La  Pointe.  It  was  one  of  those  misty  sum- 
mer mornings  when  every  object  in  nature  wears  a  bewitching 
aspect,  and  her  still  small  voice  seems  to  whisper  to  the  heart 
that  it  is  not  the  "  whole  of  life  to  live,  nor  the  whole  of  death 
to  die,"  and  when  we  feel  that  God  is  omnipotent  and  the  mind 
immortal.  But  the  scenery  of  this  portion  of  the  river  is  beau- 
tiful— beautiful  beyond  anything  I  had  imagined  to  exist  in 
any  country  on  the  globe.  The  entire  distance  from  Fond  du 
Lac  to  this  place,  as  before  mentioned,  is  not  far  from  twenty 
miles.  The  river  is  very  broad  and  deep,  and  completely  filled 
with  wooded  islands ;  while  on  either  side  extends  a  range 


si  J-- 


THE  SAINT  LOUIS  RIVER. 


9d 


of  mountains,  which  are  as  wild  and  solitary  as  when  brought 
into  existence. 

Every  member  of  the  voyaging  party  seemed  to  be  happy,  and 
we  travelled  at  our  ease  for  the  purpose  of  prolonging  the  en- 
joyment of  the  voyage.  At  one  time  we  landed  at  the  base  of 
a  cliff;  and  while  I  made  a  drawing  or  ransacked  the  shore  for 
agates  and  cornelians,  and  the  young  Indians  clambered  up  a 
hillside  for  roots  or  berries,  the  more  venerable  personages  of 
the  party  would  sit  in  their  canoes,  quietly  puffing  away  at 
their  pipes  as  they  watched  the  movements  of  their  younger 
companions.  Ever  and  anon  might  be  heard  the  report  of  a 
gun,  or  the  whiz  of  an  arrow,  as  we  happened  to  pass  the  feed- 
ing place  of  a  flock  of  ducks,  the  nest  of  an  eagle  or  raven,  or 
the  marshy  haunt  of  a  muskrat  or  otter.  Now  we  surprised  a 
couple  of  deer  swimming  across  the  river,  one  of  which  the 
Indians  succeeded  in  capturing ;  and  now  we  hauled  up  our 
canoes  on  a  sandy  island,  to  have  a  talk  with  some  lonely 
Indian  family,  the  smoke  of  whose  wigwam  had  attracted  our 
attention,  rising  from  between  the  trees.  Our  sail  down  the 
river  occupied  us  until  about  ten  o'clock,  when  we  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  and  disembarked  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
paring and  eating  our  breakfast.  We  landed  on  the  river  side 
of  a  long  sandy  point,  and  while  the  Indians  were  cooking  a* 
vcnison-steak  and  a  large  trout,  I  rambled  over  the  sand  hills ; 
and  as  the  sun  came  out  of  a  cloud  and  dissipated  every  vestige 
of  the  morning  mist,  obtained  my  first  view  of  Lake  Superior, 
where,  above  the  apparently  boundless  plain,  I  could  only  dis- 
cover an  occasional  gull,  wheeling  to  and  fro  as  if  sporting 
with  the  sunbeams. 


|i: 


m 


:fm 


Ill5-c-:>^|i 


I:: '••■..    ■.    '"•ill 
11'  't  '      'ill'     •  ■  'i 


"*  """lill"'.'' 


LAKE   SUPERIOR. 


I  HAVE  finished  my  canoe  pilgi'imagc,  and  parted  with  my 
Indian  guides  and  fellow-voyagers.  It  now  remains  for  me  to 
mould  into  an  intelligible  form  the  notes  which  I  have  recorded 
from  time  to  time,  while  seated  in  my  canoe  or  lounging  beside 
the  watch-fires  of  my  barbarous  companions. 

Lake  Superior,  known  to  be  the  largest  body  of  fresh  water 
on  the  globe,  is  three  hundred  and  sixty  miles  long,  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  wide,  and  fifteen  hundred  miles  in  circum- 
ference ;  its  surface  is  six  hundred  and  twenty-seven  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  its  greatest  depth  seven  hundred  and  ninety-two 
feet.  It  is  the  grand  reservoir  whence  proceed  the  waters  of 
Michigan,  Huron,  and  Erie ;  it  gives  birth  to  Niagara — the 
wonder  of  the  world — fills  the  basin  of  Ontario,  and  rolls  a 
mighty  flood  down  the  valley  of  the  Saint  Lawrence  to  the 
Atlantic.  It  lies  in  the  bosom  of  a  mountain  land,  where  the 
red  man  yet  reigns  in  his  native  freedom.  Excepting  an  occa- 
sional picket  fort  or  trading  house,  it  is  yet  a  wilderness.  The 
entire  country  is  rocky  and  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of 
vegetation,  where  the  silver  fur,  the  pine,  hemlock,  the  cedar 
and  the  birch  are  most  abundant.  The  soil  is  principally  com- 
posed of  a  reddish  clay,  which  becomes  almost  as  hard  as  brick 
on  being  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  air  and  sun.  In  some  of 
the  valleys,  however,  the  soil  is  rich  and  suitable  for  purposes 
of  agriculture. 

The  waters  of  this  magnificent  lake  are  marvellously  clear, 
and  even  at  midsummer  are  exceedingly  cold.  In  passing 
along  its  rocky  shores  in  my  frail  canoe,  I  have  often  been 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


101 


alarmed  at  the  sight  of  a  sunken  boulder,  which  I  fancied  must 
be  near  the  top,  and  on  further  investigation  have  found  myself 
to  bo  upwards  of  twenty  feet  from  the  danger  of  a  concussion  ; 
and  I  nave  frequently  lowered  a  white  rag  to  the  depth  of  one 
hundred  feet,  and  been  able  to  discern  its  every  fold  or  stain. 
The  color  of  the  water  near  the  shore  is  a  deep-green,  but  off 
soundings  it  has  all  the  dark-blue  appearance  of  the  ocean. 
The  sandy  shores  are  more  abrupt  than  those  of  any  body  of 
water  I  have  seen ;  and  within  a  few  feet  of  many  of  its  in- 
numerable bluffs,  it  would  be  impossible  for  a  ship  to  anchor. 
It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  waters  of  this  lake  are  miftli 
heavier  than  those  of  Huron,  which  are  also  heavier  than  those 
of  Erie  and  Michigan.  I  am  informed  on  the  best  authority, 
that  a  loaded  canoe  will  draw  at  least  two  inches  more  water 
in  Huron  than  in  Superior. 

The  natural  harbors  of  this  lake  are  not  numerous,  but  on 
account  of  its  extent  and  depth  it  affords  an  abundance  of  sea- 
room,  and  is  consequently  one  of  the  safest  of  the  gi'cat  lakes 
to  navigate.  The  only  trouble  is  that  it  is  subject  to  severe 
storms,  which  arise  very  suddenly.  Often  have  I  floated  on  its 
sleeping  bosom  in  my  canoe  at  noonday,  and  watched  the 
butterfly  sporting  in  the  sunbeams ;  and  at  sunset  of  the 
same  day,  have  stood  upon  the  rocky  shoie,  gazing  upon  the 
mighty  billows  careering  onward  as  if  mad  with  a  wild  delight, 
while  a  wailing  song,  mingled  with  the  "trampling  surf," 
would  ascend  to  the  gloomy  sky.  The  shipping  of  the  lake  in 
1846  was  composed  of  one  steamboat,  one  propeller,  and 
several  small  schooners,  which  were  chiefly  supported  by  the 
fur  and  copper  business.  The  first  vessel,  larger  than  a  canoe 
or  batteaux,  that  sailed  on  this  lake,  was  launched  in  August, 
1835 ;  she  belonged  to  the  American  Fur  Company,  and  her 
burthen  was  113  tons. 

A  nd  now  a  word  or  two  about  the  climate  of  this  region . 
The  winters  are  very  long,  averaging  about  seven  months, 
while  spring,  summer,  and  autumn  are  compelled  to  fulfill  their 
duties  in  the  remaining  five.  During  the  former  season  the 
snow  frequently  covers  the  whole  country  to  the  depth  of  three, 


102 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


S.H**-*""""'"" 


f^K. 


^^ 


« iiri!.:::.:;-^;,,,, 

m  -fe, 


||r^*'"S^! 


Iriil; 


four,  and  five  feet,  but  the  cold  is  regular  and  consequently 
healthful.  The  few  white  people  who  spend  their  winters  in 
this  region,  are  almost  as  isolated  as  the  inhabitants  of  Green- 
land. The  only  news  which  they  then  obtain  from  the  civilized 
world,  is  brought  them  once  a  month.  The  mail-carriers  are 
half-breeds  or  Indians,  who  travel  through  the  pathless  wilder- 
ness in  a  rude  sledge  drawn  by  dogs.  But  the  climate  of  Lake 
Superior  at  midsummer  is  delightful  beyond  compare  ;  the  air 
is  soft  and  bracing  at  the  same  time.  A  healthier  region  docs 
not  exist  on  the  earth,  and  this  assertion  is  corroborated  by 
the  well-known  fact  that  the  inhabitants  usually  live  to  an  ad- 
vanced age,  in  spite  of  their  many  hardships.  The  common 
diseases  of  mankind  are  here  comparatively  unknown,  and  I 
have  never  seen  an  individual  whose  breast  did  not  swell  with 
a  new  emotion  of  delight  as  he  inhaled  the  air  of  this  northern 
wilderness. 

Before  concluding  this  general  description  of  the  region  I 
have  recently  explored,  I  ought  to  speak  of  the  game  which  is 
found  here.  Of  the  larger  animals  the  two  principal  species 
are  the  black  bear  and  elk,  but  they  are  far  from  being  abun- 
dant ;  of  the  smaller  varieties,  almost  every  northern  animal 
may  be  found,  excepting  the  beaver,  which  has  become  extinct. 
Water-fowl,  as  many  people  suppose,  are  not  abundant,  for  the 
reason  that  the  rocky  bottom  of  the  lake  yields  no  plants  to 
supply  them  with  food ;  but  westward  of  Superior,  about  the 
head  waters  of  the  Saint  Louis  and  Mississippi  rivers,  they  are 
found  in  incredible  numbers.  As  to  snakes,  you  might  travel 
a  thousand  miles  through  the  woods  and  not  see  a  single  speci- 
men. They  are  not  "native  and  to  the  manor  born."  The 
traveller  through  this  region  finds  but  little  use  for  the  gun ; 
if,  however,  he  Is  not  too  devoted  a  worshipper  of  mammon, 
he  may  bring  with  him  a  quantity  of  fishing  tackle,  and  his 
brightest  anticipations  with  regard  to  angling  will  be  fully 
realized.  But  I  must  be  more  particular  in  my  descriptions, 
and  will  therefore  speak  of  the  American  and  Canadian  shores 
of  Lake  Superior. 

It  is  computed  that  the  American  coast  of  this  lake  extends 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


108 


to  about  twice  the  length  of  that  which  belongs  to  Canada. 
Our  portion  of  the  northern  shore  ia*  skirted  by  a  range  of 
mountains  which  seem  to  be  from  two  to  three  thousand  feet  in 
height ;  and  it  is  said  they  extend  in  an  unbroken  chain  from 
the  river  Saint  Louis  to  the  gulf  of  Saint  Lawrcnf,e.  Though 
they  abound  in  cliffs,  caverns,  and  waterfalls,  when  seen  from 
the  water,  "  distance  lends  enchantment"  to  these  mountains, 
and  they  fade  away,  swell  beyond  swell,  like  the  rolling  billows 
of  the  ocean,  while  an  occasional  cloud  will  rest  upon  them,  as 
if  to  remind  the  beholder  of  a  ship,  and  thus  complete  the  illu- 
sion. On  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake  is  a  range  called  fhe 
Porcupine  Mountains,  which  appear  to  bo  about  as  extensive 
(but  not  so  lofty)  as  the  Catskills ;  their  varying  outlines,  seen 
as  you  sail  along  the  coast,  are  very  beautiful  indeed.  Point 
Keweenaw  is  also  covered  with  hills,  but  less  lofty  and  pic- 
turesque than  those  already  mentioned.  That  portion  of  tho 
coast  lying  between  this  point  and  the  river  Saint  Mary,  is 
low,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  Pictured  Rocks,  uninterest- 
ing. Though  the  shores  are  not,  generally  speaking,  what  we 
should  call  rocky,  yet  they  are  distinguished  for  a  variety  of 
remarkable  bluffs.  Those  alluded  to  above,  arc  found  on  the 
east  of  Point  Keweenaw,  and  extend  along  the  coast  some 
nine  miles.  They  have  been  striped  with  various  colors  by 
mineral  drippings,  and  are  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
high.  The  most  conspicuous  of  them  is  perhaps  three  hundred 
feet  high,  but  its  most  superb  feature  was  demolished  by  a  storm 
in  the  year  1810.  That  feature,  according  to  a  drawing  in  ray 
possession,  was  an  arch  or  doorway,  fifteen  feet  broad  and  one 
hundred  high,  through  which  the  Indians  were  accustomed  to 
pass  with  their  canoes.  In  those  days,  too,  from  the  crevices 
in  these  solid  walls  of  whitish  sandstone  leaped  forth  beautiful 
cascades,  and  mingled  their  waters  with  those  of  the  lake. 
Beautiful  caverns  meet  the  eye  in  every  direction,  and  the 
water  at  their  base  is  of  a  deep  green,  and  in  some  places  almojt 
fathomless. 

A  cluster  of  rocks  similar  to  tho  above  is  found  westward  of 
the  Apostle  Islands.     These,  however,  are  composed  of  a  deep 


m 


104 


lake;  superior. 


!sl"4i 


^^1 


4f*f  iskiti^g. 


n^S' 


'**«;; 


red  sandstone,  and  are  only  about  one  hundred  feet  high,  cx« 
tending  along  the  shore  for  about  two  miles.  The  arches  hero 
are  almost  numberless,  and  exceedingly  picturesque  and  singu- 
lar, and  you  may  Avind  your  way  among  them  in  a  canoe  with- 
out the  least  danger,  provided  you  have  a  steady  hand  and 
sufficient  nerve.  And  the  caverns,  too,  in  these  bluffs  are  also 
very  numerous,  and  some  of  them  are  so  deep  and  dark  that 
the  eye  cannot  measure  their  depths, — and  from  these  gloomy 
recesses,  "  even  in  a  season  of  calm  weather,"  always  issues  a 
sound  like  thunder,  which  must  be  terrific  when  a  storm  is  rag- 
ing. All  thcsrt  bluffs  are  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of 
Alpine  and  other  trees. 

The  largest  island  in  Lake  Superior  belongs  to  the  American 
government,  and  is  called  Isle  Royal.  It  is  forty  miles  long, 
and  vai'os  from  six  to  ten  miles  in  width.  Its  hills  have  an 
altitude  of  four  hundred  feet,  it  is  covered  with  forest,  and  has 
a  bold  shore.  During  the  winter  it  is  entirely  uninhabited,  but 
for  the  two  last  summers  has  been  thoroughly  explored  by  the 
copper  speculators.  The  northern  side  is  bold  and  rocky,  but 
the  southern  shore  has  a  number  of  fine  bays  and  natural 
harbors.  The  soil  is  barren,  but  distinguished  for  its  fishing 
grounds.  According  to  the  Indians,  it  is  the  home  of  all  the 
spirits  of  their  mythology. 

Near  the  western  extremity  of  this  lake  are  the  Apostle 
Islands,  which  are  evidently  detachments  of  a  peninsula,  run- 
ning out  in  the  same  direction  with  Keweenaw,  which  is  known 
as  La  Pointe.  The  group  consists  of  three  islands,  and  they 
stud  the  water  most  char^ningly.  There  is  a  dreamy  summer 
beauty  aboui  them,  which  made  me  anxious  to  linger  along 
their  peaceful  and  solitary  shores.  They  are  covered  with  dense 
forests,  and  ascend  from  the  water's  edge  to  a  conspicuous  height. 

On  the  extreme  point  of  the  largest  island  is  situated  a  trad- 
ing post  known  as  La  Pointe.  When  I  was  there,  it  contained 
about  a  dozen  inhabited  log  cabins,  and  the  wigwams  of  about 
three  thousand  Chippewa  Indians.  They  were  assembled 
there  to  receive  their  annual  instalment  in  money  and  goods 
from  the  general  government,  as  a  return  for  the  untold  acres. 


:'f : 


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.in*  all'■^u'^l  i.>4««h*'rb»»> 
>ir,  ft  nil  T 


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■iinlft  '  fcot  5:frl),  OX' 
!>.«.  Tbo  »rohc8  licrr 
•■ti<tiuuMti"te  iM-'fl  flingu 

p4':    iiitni  3".i'i  iia\e  a  stemly  ItonU  uivi 
'    )  tlfc  cttvc.  iit»,  Jo.),  in  iheso  bluffs  an*  «l  • 
,     .<a.c  *jl  ii;(i;t  «r«  «?<*  4*©p  auJ  Juru  tir* 

,.^,  ,    »n  kj  R  »«f)4  ■  I  of  io^yix  weajhwr/-  *liif»j^ii  iitsue^  ? 

Vina  like  tiiumicr,  \>hich  u.ust  be  toj'j-i*?-  vl»ou  iv  hionn  -■  •  i;. 
■Ml  the'jo  MTifi-  aru  coveri'd  witji  a  stunutl  growth C 
All  >.  ■•  and  othf'r  trees. 

Th(^  Iftrgest  wland  in  Lake  Siiivr^'-'r  ^mloiigi  r.o  tho  Amerirar. 
g.vorTim«»»*;*iitt  i*  t-xi^Hl  M«>  ^'  ir.  1'^  forty  miles  loa^ 

and  yurics  fttiw  mv  ia  tmi  wtflca  >s\  *i«ik  Its  hills  havo  r*?. 
,»ltini«io  of  four  biiti'lrcfi  hu'i.  it  ir  eMotvi  irilh  Torobt,  auu  h&* 
,  bold  Hliore.  Diuinjr  thp  wiut«'i'  k  i*  t'<t*;f»!*  im  -  *u  '  itcd.  bu' 
f M-  tlic  twf  1*8!  .'^iinunc'-'  K,»s  l^'i't  ?l!<^*i>rtgi;!^'  «'xp1or«d  by  t^" 
<x>|ipor  sp€culat'.»rs.  Tttf.  n«rifievrs  -ifte  is  bo'4  aud  rocly,  ba. 
t^ie  soatheirn  short?  h^  n  rr.ii.ibcr  f-i'  fmc'  bay»  and  Tiatii!-: 

ifbora.    The  soil  ia  Ijffim  o,  )mt  disth  ^uiiilied  for  it«  fishinp 
ts,     Aciardin;;  to  fcbe  "(nilixtoa.  it  i,»  t^.^i  hojifs  of  aAl  ttn 

iftlaudu,  which  am  ovide>it.iy  doiachments  of  a  ps^ninsnia,  ru- 
rjing  wit  in  uw.  8!Uuo  diroctioii  -with  Kewoonaw,  wliieh  i»  ki  -ni 
a»  L»  P-.''uto.     The  group  consists*  A>f  tbr«  '  ,  n!id  il- . 

■■\  the  *«t«;r  wost  chi^mir  r';-.     Tbcre  i.i  a  ■  ••.  'uiy  S'lmmr 
•    *      1    i;:e!a,^bich  in;i<k  we  anxiouB  to  !)>'•;'. t  aio» 
^1  nnt!  rio'.it.i.y  3hor»»f .  Tli«y  Rrr  'jv^^fe^  with  denft 
.-.s'  a>*<;''VKl  from  the  wat*.'r'j^  t^Tg^i  taft  isouspicuous  heigj'- 
i>ft  tti'."  t-'Jitr*'.'  *-.  point  uf  t};,-  '.tj'gfst  ieknd  is  sitna-d  a  ti-H/' 
;■:-  |«i»J:  kj&uwt?  t»^  i.a  Poir.to,     Wh.-'!  T  wtvs  there,  it  cantalui  ' 
aWa-.  :^  -Vmw  :l:^*b■^*  d  b";^  cki^jfw,  a»'I  lb ;  -srigwaui  j  (»£  nbotr 
thrt't:   iiiwu^wTid   «l.ipjx;wu    '   .'= ,'  ;      TboA-   werv    aseembK- 
'•(•ir  to  tei-oivi  iiieir  unnimi  »u.si:*J«ierYt>^  '.>  Viy.iiiey  and  .?'/   - 
from  the  gen<?r«il  jj'-'pni.iiCJit,  '.li?  a.  i <nfii o  j^.t  ci^  tintold  acn- 


:"^^ 


.    Ml  .'■%i 


rv 


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r^>^|  / 


W**^ 


i 


tM. 


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i»:--"V. 


W 


vii 


''"*::  ■>.'% 


I  ■ 


■ «'  - 


LAKB  SUPERIOR. 


105 


which  they  had  deeded  to  their  ♦'  Great  Father  nnd  Protector," 
the  I'residont.  The  sum  allotted  to  each  ^as  four  dollura  in 
money,  and  in  goods  one  blanket  and  a  sufRcient  amount  of 
cloth  to  make  a  pair  of  leggins.  This  was  all,  and  yot  many 
of  these  noor  wretches  had  puddled  their  canoes  more  than  a 
thousand  miles,  to  obtain  this  meagre  present.  The  great 
majority  had  reached  La  Polnte  in  a  state  of  starvation,  and 
were  therefore  immediately  compelled  to  transfer  their  money 
into  the  open  hands  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  for  pork 
^i  fifty  dollars  per  barrel,  and  flour  at  fifteen  dollars  per  hun- 
dred. It  was  understood,  however,  that  when  the  red  barba- 
rians should  start  for  their  distant  homes,  the  white  barbarians 
would  furnish  them  with  suflicient  provisions  to  take  them  out 
of  sight.  This  u.^happy  state  of  things  took  such  firm  hold  upon 
my  feelings  tl  it  my  reflections  upon  the  fate  of  the  Indian 
tribes  prevented  me  from  enjoying  my  visit  on  the  island. 
There  is  a  Protestant  missionary  cstablishnent  at  this  place, 
but  the  missionaries  are  compelled  to  prosecute  their  ln,bors  as 
if  with  tied  hands  and  closed  lips,  on  account  of  the  superior 
power  of  the  Romish  church.  From  time  immemorial  La  Pointe 
has  been  t1'  Mecca  of  the  fur  traders  and  the  poor  Indians. 
After  exploring  the  immense  wilderness  on  the  west  and  north, 
enduring  the  severest  hardships,  they  look  forward  to  their  visit 
at  this  place  as  the  prominent  evcat  of  the  year.  It  is  also  the 
recruiting  or  starting  place  tor  all  expeditions  to  the  Mississippi 
river,  ihero  being  only  two  routes, — that  by  the  Brulo  and 
Saint  Croix  rivers,  and  another  by  the  Saint  Louis. 

The  rivers  running  into  Lake  Superior  from  the  south,  are 
quite  numerous,  but  none  of  them  arc  very  large.  They  are 
all  remarkably  clear,  and  abound  in  waterfalls.  They  invari- 
ably enter  the  lake  in  some  sandy  bay,  and  it  is  a  singular  fact, 
that  shortly  after  a  severe  storm  many  of  them  cannot  be  entered 
even  by  a  canoe,  owing  to  their  being  blocked  with  sand,  which 
event  is  of  qourse  followed  by  an  overflow,  for  the  time,  of  the 
surrounding  country.  When  the  storm  has  subsided,  however, 
they  break  through  the  sandy  barriers,  and  rush  with  great 
velocity  into  the  lake. 


1   ^'H^H 

m 

m 

l/v-. 

'^.■ 


106 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


!»'|M 


l[|;,iii<'  •■*"SBi«iWj| 


The  entire  Canadian  shore  of  Lake  Superior  might  bb  de- 
nominated as  bold  and  rocky,  but  there  may  occasionally  be 
seen  a  line  of  tho  smoothest  beach,  as  if  for  the  very  purpose 
of  affording  protection  to  the  voyaging  Indians  when  exposed 
to  the  dangers  of  sudden  storms.  The  bluffs  are  generally  of 
a  green  sandstone,  and  frequently  rise  to  the  height  of  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  water,  like  massive  bulwarks,  which 
seem  to  have  battled  with  the  elements  for  many  ages.  The 
mountains  which  skirt  the  northern  shore  of  Superior,  form 
the  dividing  ridge  between  the  streams  which  run  into  the  Lake 
and  those  which  take  a  northerly  direction  into  Hudson's  Bay. 
After  "passing  the  first  and  most  lofty  range,  the  country  for 
about  fifty  miles  is  mainly  made  up  of  low  granite  hills,  when 
it  settles  into  a  level  wilderness,  extending,  as  is  supposed,  to 
the  Arctic  Sea,  and  where  tamarack  swamps  may  bo  seen  in 
their  greatest  perfection.  This  entire  region  produces  but  little 
for  purposes  of  agriculture. 

The  two  most  promiiient  peninsulas  on  this  shore  arc  called 
Thunder  Cape  and  Cari'iboo  Point.  The  former  is  about  four- 
teen hundred  feet  high,  and  frowns  upon  tho  waste  of  waters, 
like  a  crouching  lion,  Avhich  animal  it  cloooly  resembles  in  its 
outline.  When  passing  near  its  base,  it  looms  against  the  sky 
in  awful  grandeur,  tho  seeming  lord  and  master  of  the  bound- 
less wilderness  world  around.  Carriboo  Point  is  Ljss  lofty,  but 
far-famed  on  account  of  the  hieroglyphics  which  have  been 
painted  upon  its  brow  in  other  years,  by  an  Indian  race  now 
supposed  to  be  extinct.  In  the  vicinity  of  these  bluffs,  are  found 
large  and  beautiful  agates. 

The  Canadian  shore  of  this  lake  abounds  in  rocky  islands, 
but  there  is  only  one  deserving  of  particular  notice.  It  lies 
in  the  northeastern  part  of  the  lake,  and  is  unquestionably  the 
greatest  natural  curiosity  in  this  wilderness, — not  even  except- 
the  Chippewa  Falls,  or  the  Pictured  Cliffs  on  the  southern 
shore  of  Superior.  It  is  found  about  twenty  mil.es  from  the 
main  coast,  and  is  supposed  to  be  about  a  dozen  miles  in  cir- 
cumference. The  shores  are  of  sandstone,  and  for  the  most 
part  rise  abruptly  from  the  water  to  tho  height  of  four  or  five 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


107 


hundred  feet.     !6ut  the  ■vvondcr  is,  that  in  the  centre  of  this 
island  lies  embosomed  one  of  the  most  beautiful  lakes  imagina- 
ble.   It  is  about  a  mile  long,  and  the  perpendicular  cliffs  which 
look  down  upon  it,  are  not  far  from  seven  hundred  feet  in  height. 
It  has  an  outlet,  which  is  impassable  for  a  canoe,  on  account  of 
the  rocks  and  trees  that  have  blocked  up  the  narrow  chasm ; 
and  at  the  opening  of  this  outlet  stands  a  column  of  solid  rock, 
which  is  estimated  to  be  *cight  hundred  feet  high.  *  The  base  is 
probably  one  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  and  it  gradually  tapers 
off  to  about  twenty  feet  in  thickness,  while  the  summit  of  this 
singular  needle  is  surmounted  by  one  solitary  pine  tree.     The* 
waters  of  this  inner  lake  ar<r  clear,  but  have  a  blackish  appear- 
ance, and  are  very  deep.     It  is  so  completely  hidden  from  the 
surrounding  world,  that  the  passing  breeze  scarcely  ever  ruffles 
its  tranquil  bosom,  and  the  silence  Avhich  reigns  there,  even  at 
noonday,  is  intense.     In  some  places  the  walls  which  sur- 
round the  lake  appear  to  have  been  recently  rent  asunder, 
and  partly  demolished,  as  there  were  immense  piles  of  broken 
rocks  lying  at  their  base;  while  in  other  places  the  upper 
points  and  edges  are  overgrown  with  moss,  and  from  their 
brows  occasionally  depends  a  cluster  of  fantastic  vines,  droop- 
ing perpendicularly  to  the  tranquil  water,  which  reproduces 
the  beautiful  pictures  in  its  translucent  bosom.     The  lake  is 
destitute  of  fish,  and  the  island  of  animals,  but  gulls  of  every 
variety,  and  in  immense  numbers  fill  the  air  with  their  wild 
screams.     The  entire  island  seems  to  be  composed  of  rocky 
materials,  but  it  is  everywhere  covered  with  a  stunted  growth 
of  vegetation. 

Of  the  countless  Indian  legends,  which  create  a  kind  of  clas- 
sical interest  in  the  scenery  of  Lake  Superior,  the  most  singu- 
lar and  universal  have  reference  to  a  noted  personage  whose 
name  was  Monaboujou ;  and  as  it  is  a  traditionary  fact,  that 
he  was,  owing  to  his  passion  for  water,  buried  in  the  liquid  cen- 
tre of  tho  island  I  have  described,  it  is  meet,  I  ween,  that  I 
should  devote  a  portion  of  this  chapter  to  a  record  of  his  his- 
tory. He  was  the  Noah  as  well  as  the  Jonah  of  this  portion  of 
the  heathen  world,  and  is  said  to  have  been  created  by  Manito 


1    '  '^i  V 


t 


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If  '■  A  ;|  •! i 

ly    '■■*■-■ 


''"*^ 

ll;;*'»*! 


Wll  I 


vi'\ 


n 


108 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


for  the  especial  purpose  of  acting  as  the  ruler  of  all  men,  and 
guardian  of  Lake  Superior  in  particular;  while  some  aflBrm 
that  he  was  Manito  himself.     The  Indians  describe  him  as  a 
being  of  immense  size — who  could  stride  across  the   widest 
rivers  and  grasp  the  lightning  in  his  hands,  and  whose  voice 
was  like  the  roar  of  Superior  in  a  storm.     They  also  affirm 
that  he  excelled  in  all  the  arts  of  war  and  of  the  chase,  that 
the  Chippewa  nation  are  his  legitimate  descendants,  and  that 
he  died  at*  the  advanced  age  of  one  thousand  winters.     At  the 
mention  of  his  name  in  the  Indian  lodges,  the  children  hush 
their  prattle,  and  listen  with  wonder  to  the  tales  which  are  sure 
to  follow.'    It  is  alleged  that  he  was  gifted  with  the  strange 
powers  of  the  necromancer,  could  transform  himself  into  any 
animal  or  inanimate  object  in  nature,  at  a  moment's  warning, 
and  was  wont  to  hold  converse  with  every  living  creature  at 
his  will.     There  is  not  a  headland  on  Lake  Superior,  or  a  river 
emptying  into  it,  which  is  not  hallowed  in  Indian  story  by  his 
wonderful  exploits.     The  revolving  seasons  were  at  his  com- 
mand.    He   covered  the  earth  with  snow,  and  fettered  the 
streams  with  ice.     At  his  mandate  the  mountains  were  covered 
with  verdure,  and  northern  flowers  bloomed  in  surpassing 
beauty.     He  commanded,  and  the  terrible  storm-winds  broke 
from  their  prison  caves,  and  lashed  the  mighty  plain  of  waters 
into  pure  white  foam ;  and  the  zephyr,  which  scarcely  caused 
a  leaf  to  tremble,  or  a  ripple  on  the  sleeping  waves,  was  also 
attributed  to  his  power.     In  fine,  the  (Jualiiications  of  this 
noted  individual  were  as  numerous  hb  they  seem  to  us  incon- 
gruous and  heathenish.     To  the  philosopher,  however,  these 
glimpses  into  the  mythology  of  the  aborigines  are  not  without 
their  value,  and  this  conviction  is  my  apology  for  recording 
them.     Another  name  for  Menaboujou  was  Hiawatha. 

The  death  of  Menaboujou  was  an  important  era  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Chippewa  nation.  During  his  life  the  calamities 
of  war  sMid  intemperance  were  unknown,  but  the  Evil  One  hav- 
ing challenged  him  to  mortal  combat,  a  desperate  battle  was 
fought  between  the  mighty  potentates,  which  resulted  in  the 
triumph  of  evil,  and  the  extinction  of  all  good,  in  the  person  of 


LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


109 


its  chief  author.  The  battle  o^urred  in  the  midst  of  a  thun- 
der-storm and  on  the  summit  of  Thunder  CapOj  the  only  wea- 
pons used  being  clubs  of  immense  si;^,  made  of  the  pine  and 
spruce ;  and  when  the  result  was  known,  a  mournful  lamenta- 
tion was  heard  throughout  all  the  land.  The  entire  Chippewa 
nation  attended  the  funeral  of  the  departed,  and  when  they 
were  bearing  his  huge  corse  to  the  lake  within  the  nameless 
island,  a  rock  was  seen  to  rise  out  of  the  water,  as  a  monument 
planted  there  by  the  Great  Spirit,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of 
the  beloved  Mcnaboujou.  The  rock  alluded  to,  rises  to  the 
height  of  about  thirty  feet,  and  bears  pu  astonishing  resem- 
blance to  a  human  head. 


¥1 

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THE   VOYAGEUR. 


rr ..|::  r 

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|v,         Nil! 

■  ,5   ;    \  ;.' 

■■"'■■■  '.i, 


Generally  speaking,  the  voyageur  of  the  northwest  is  the 
shipping  merchant  of  the  wilderness ;  for  his  principal  businesB 
is  to  transport  furs  from  the  interior  country  to  the  frontier  set- 
tlements,  or  merchandise  from  tho  settlements  into  the  interior. 
By  birth  he  is  half  French,  and  half  Indian,  but  in  habits,  man- 
ners, and  education,  a  full-blooded  Indian.  Like  the  Indian, 
his  home  is  where  he  may  happen  to  pitch  his  tent.  His  usual 
possessions  consist  of  a  good  supply  of  bark  canoes,  and  he  ever 
holds  himself  in  readiness,  either  to  transport  good:?,  or  act  as 
a  guide  and  companion  to  the  traveller  Avho  may  require  his 
services.  His  dress  is  something  less  than  half  civilized,  and 
his  knowledge  of  the  world  equal  to  that  of  his  savage  brethren ; 
— amiable,  even  to  a  fault,  but  intemperate  and  without  a  reli- 
gion. The  hardships  to  which  ho  exposes  himself  at  mid-win- 
ter, when  his  snow-dlioes  take  ilie  place  of  his  canoe,  are  in- 
credible ;  but  in  all  places,  and  at  all  times,  he  is  a  happy  and 
contented  being.  His  main  stay  in  the  way  of  food  is  salted 
pork,  and  for  that  reason  has  ho  been  nicknamed  a  "  pork- 
eater." 

It  was  in  a  company  of  some  fifty  men,  composed  of  voya- 
geurs-and  Indians,  and  commanded  by  Allen  ]Vff>rrison,  that  1 
performed  a  part  of  my  pilgrimage  to  the  head  waters  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  partly  around  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior. 
There  were  ten  conoes  in  our  ^t'ei;  thi  largest  (about  forty 
feet  long)  was  occapied  by  Morrison,  m^'self,  and  five  picked 
men.  Ho  was  on  his  annual  visit  to  the  north,  to  attend  the 
Jndian  payments,  and  the  great  majority  of  the  Indians  tra- 


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lili    V  o**  ».  <i  E  ( 


OKKEn  vi^fjY  spralsTis;,  th\.>  voyauour  of  tho  iio.thAVcat  i.s  th' 
ghipjiing  inorchaiit  of  tho  wililernuf ^  ;  for  liis  princiiw'  l.)UKillo^■ 
ih  to  transport  furs  from  liio  aitcriur  country  lo  the  frontier  y«M 
tit:nicnU",  m  mt  li^lvinlKr  frfim  thi'  setflomctitrf  into  the  interiot 
P'  v,«f»|-.  ho  u»  \wh  i'><'n<rh.  and  huil'  lnd»tt,i>?Jt  hi  tabits,  mai' 


•18r«*^*  r>)  ?i^y  V? 


VI   -^      ,"*rt6e«?,  nndhf;  evf' 
u  ;  . .  .  >  .  ■•  iratopott  giKnlij,  or  act  rit 

»   f-'jMc  tv\vt|  ;»»•  H'hn  loay  requiro  b>f* 

•?»; -   l^i  hnlf  eivUized,  ancs 

a*  fe««w3«*l5«  ••!  thevcrt't  e){t«A.  :  5g«  brothrctv 

—iiRUaiMt    3i-??t  tri  »  tVtit,  but  iiitvc  i.<.;i~au-  »ifc>4  without  a  re^ 
v,i.jD.     1  I'i  liardshipB  to  whirh  h,"  c  qioaes  himself  at  mid-wii! 
ler,  vfh«t  his  saow-rihoofj  lake  thf?  place  of  iii>s  canoo,  aro  >r- 
oreUible     hat  m  all  ji];ices,  and  at  all  times,  ho  is  r.  happy  ap« 
c«)Kt<mt«d  dwiug.     Ilia  inaiii'stay  in  tlio  W4;r  of  f-vn!  is  ealtt-r 
,'/i>k,uf.(^    ■       tiiat  rcadon  has   ho  b<'«n  tiiftkttanH'd  a  *' pur!: 

h  *a;  tr;  twsripany  of  soiuo  Hfty  u»cn,  compwjod  of  Voys 
.?  T>*'?;iMlft  Iv'I^i^a:-,  and  commatided  hv  Allen  >i,i.)iriaoiJ,  that 

.fiM  ft  pai't^ctti  my  pilgritpago  to  the  hoiid  waters  of  ti^ 
.•'[.    '  »n!t».  ^Jiti  partly  around  tho  (shores  of  Luko  Superit"^ 
'fhcj'.-  **r^'  tvn  canopB  in  our  /ctsd ;  fhe  IsrpjMt  (about  f' :"t^ 
fcoi  brtg?  t^«  ocatviiod  by  Morrison,  ^nyacif  and  five  pickei 
tucn.     K.'    '•■;  :-'   hiH  annual  vint  i?    ;»  nortJ',  to  attend  thv 
Jiidiao  p;m:  vrtii%       ■  il  the  preat  n»<^mnty  "f  the  ludiaus  tra- 


-ip- 


pori 


I 


■■•'1'  '■ 


M 


'■1, 


""■"■■itr-.s 


''C.^^ 


THE  VOTAGEUR. 


Ill 


veiled  under  his  flag,  partly  for  the  fun  of  it,  but  principally 
for  the  purpose  of  drawing  upon  him  for  f  jod,  which  he  always 
dealt  out  to  them  with  a  liberal  hand. 

Our  time  of  starting  was  at  day-break,  and  having  paddled 
three  pipes,  (about  eighteen  miles,)  we  generally  landed  upon 
a  pleasant  sand-bar,  or  in  some  leafy  nook,  and  spent  an  hour 
or  more  in  cooking  and  eating  our  breakfast.  A  "  pipe,"  J 
should  here  remark,  is  what  a  sporting  gentleman  might  call  a 
heat  of  six  miles,  at  tho  end  of  which  our  oarsmen  would  rest 
themselves,  while  enjoying  a  smoke  of  ten  minutes.  Our  prin- 
cipal foe  ;l  consisted  of  pork  and  dough,  which  were  invariably 
boiled  in  a  tin  kettle.  Whenever  we  happcrod  to  have  any 
game,  or  fish,  this  rarity  was  also  placed  in  tho  same  kettle 
with  the  pork  and  dough,  all  of  which  we  .disposed  of  v.ith  the 
assistance  of  our  fingers  and  a  largo  krifc.  As  Mr.  Morrison 
and  myself  were  acknowledged  to  belong  to  tho  "first  class" 
of  people,  we  were  privileged  to  use  (without  giving  oflFence)  a 
small  quantity  of  tea  and  maple  sugar,  which  we  had  brought 
with  us.  Simple  as  was  our  food,  it  was  as  wholesome,  and  at 
that  time  as  palatable  to  my  taste,  as  any  that  I  could  have 
obtained  from  Delmonico's.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  devouring, 
and  digesting  too,  long  strings  of  heavy  deugh,  which  would, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  h'lvo  destroyed  me.  Our  meals, 
however,  were  always  looked  forward  to  with  pleasure,  and 
were  considered  a  luxury  to  bo  enjoyed  only  twice  during  the 
day, — breakfasting,  as  we  did,  at  ten,  and  supping  soon  after 
pitching  our  tents  in  the  evening.  Fifty  miles  per  day,  when 
there  were  no  portages  or  rapids  to  pass,  were  considered  a 
good  run.  The  two  or  three  hours  before  bed-time  I  generally 
spent  in  conversation  with  Morrison,  the  voyageurs,  or  Indians, 
— and  usually  retired  with  my  head  as  full  of  wilderness  ima- 
ges, as  a  bee-hive  at  swarming  time.  The  only  trouble  with 
my  ideas  was,  that  they  created  a  great  excitement,  but  would 
not  swarm  according  to  my  will.  My  couch  (a  part  of  which 
was  appropriated  to  Morrison)  consisted  of  a  soft  spot  of  ground, 
^hilo  my  gun  and  pouch  answered  for  a  pillow,  and  my  only 
covering  was  a  large  green  blanket.    When  the  weather  was 


^K. 


§ 


*>*^* 


lar"*! 


ua 


THB  VOTAaSUR. 


clear,  vre  did  not  pitch  our  tent,  but  slept  under  a  tree,  or 
used  tlio  star-studded  sky  for  a  canopy.  After  such  a  night, 
I  have  awakened,  and  found  my  blanket  white  with  frozen 
dew. 

The  pleasures  of  this  mode  of  travelling  are  manifold.  The 
scenery  that  you  pass  through  is  of  the  wildest  character,  tht> 
people  you  meet  with  "  are  so  queer,"  and  there  is  a  charm  in 
the  very  mystery  and  sense  of  danger  which  attend  the  wind- 
ings of  a  wilderness  stream,  or  the  promontories  and  bays  of  a 
lonely  lake.  The  only  apparent  miseries  which  befall  the 
voyageur,  are  pT/ractcd  rain  storms  and  musquitos.  On  one 
occasion,  while  coasting  Lake  Superior,  we  were  overtaken  by 
a  sudden  storm,  but  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore  (about  a 
mile  off)  without  bejng  swamped.  It  was  about  sundown,  and 
owing  to  the  wind  and  rain  we  were  unable  to  make  a  fire,  and 
consequently  went  supperless  to  bed.  For  my  part,  I  looked 
upon  our  condition  as  quite  wretched,  and  cared  little  what 
became  of  me.  We  had  landed  on  a  fine  beach,  where  we 
managed  to  pitch  our  tents,  and  there  threw  ourselves  down 
for  the  purpose  of  sleeping ;  and  though  wet  to  the  skin,  I 
never  slept  more  soundly  in  my  life, — for  the  roaring  of  Lake 
Superior  in  a  storm,  is  a  most  glorious  lullaby.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  I  was  awakened  by  the  surf  washing  against 
mi/ feet. 

As  to  musquitos,  had  I  not  taken  with  me  a  quantity  of 
bar-netting,  I  believe  the  creatures  would  have  eaten  me.  But 
with  this  covering  fastened  to  four  sticks,  I  could  defy  the 
wretches,  and  I  was  generally  lulled  to  sleep  by  their  annoy- 
ing hum,  which  sometimes  seemed  to  me  like  the  howl  of  in- 
fernal spirits. 

The  only  animals  that  ever  had  the  daring  to  annoy  us, 
were  a  species  of  gray  wolf,  which  sometimes  succeeded  in 
robbing  us  of  our  food.  On  one  occasion,  I  remember  we  had 
a  short  allowance  of  pork,  and  for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
it  with  greater  care  than  usual,  Mr.  Morrison  had  placed  it  in 
a  bag  under  his  head,  when  he  went  to  sleep. 

^'At  midnight,  in  his  un-guarded  tent,"  his  head  was  sud- 


THK  VOYAQEUR. 


118 


it;;*i 


denly  thumped  against  ho  ground,  and  by  the  timo  he  was 
fairly  awakened,  ho  had  the  peculiar  Batiefaction  of  seeing  a 
wolf,  on  the  keen  run,  with  the  bag  of  pork. 

Tho  moro  prominent  incidents  connected  with  canoe  voy- 
aging,  which  relieve  the  monotoity  of  a  long  voyage,  are  the 
making  of  portages,  the  passing  of  rapids,  and  the  singing  of 
songs. 

Portages  are  made  for  the  purpose  of  getting  below  or  above 
thoso  falls  which  could  not  •bo  passed  in  any  other  manner, 
also  for  the  purpose  of  going  from  one  stream  to  another,  and 
sometimes  they  are  made  to  shorten  the  distance  to  be  tra- 
velled, by  crossing  points  or  peninsulas.  It  was  invariably  tho 
habit  of  our  voyageurs  to  run  a  race,  when  they  came  in  sight 
of  a  portage,  and  they  did  not  consider  it  ended  until  their 
canoec  were  launched  in  the  water  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
portage.  The  consequence  of  this  singular  custom  is,  that 
making  a  portage  is  exciting  business.  Two  men  will  take 
the  largest  canoe  upon  their  shoulders,  and  cross  the  portage 
on  a  regular  trot,  stopping,  however,  to  rest  themselves  and 
enjoy  a  pipe  at  the  end  of  every  thousand  paces.  On  landing, 
the  canoe  is  not  allowed  to  touch  the  bottom,  but  you  must  get 
out  into  the  water  and  unload  it  while  yet  afloat.  The  loads 
of  furs  or  merchandise  which  these  men  sometimes  carry,  are 
enormous.  I  have  seen  a  man  convey  three  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  up  a  steep  hill  two  hundred  feet  high,  and  that  too 
without  once  stopping  to  rest;  and  I  heard  the  story,  that 
there  were  three  voyageurs  in  tho  northern  wilderness,  who 
have  been  known,  unitedly,  to  carry  tiventy-onc  hundred 
founds  over  a  portage  of  eight  miles.  In  making  portages,  it 
is  occasionally  necessary  to  traverse  tamarack  swamps ;  and 
the  most  difficult  one  in  the  northwest  lies  midway  between 
Sandy  Lake  and  the  Saint  Louis  River.  It  is  about  nine  miles 
in  length,  and  in  crossing  it  you  sometimes  have  to  wade  in 
pure  mud  up  to  your  middle.  On  this  route  I  counted  the 
wrecks  of  no  less  than  seven  canoes,  which  had  been  aban- 
doned by  tho  over-fatigued  voyageurs  ;  and  I  also  noticed  the 
grave  of  an  unknown  foreigner,  who  had  died  in  this  horrible 
8 


I.:': 


^.^ 


r^.      ,  I. 


.,^.;i,' 


i..W"" 


III 


■tifTslil 


;;>'3v.«e 


114 


THK  VOYAQEUR. 


place,  from  tho  effect  of  a  poisonous  root  which  ho  had  eaten. 
Here,  in  this  gloomy  solitude  hud  ho  breathed  his  last,  with 
none  to  cool  hid  feverish  brow  but  a  poor  ignorant  Indian  ; — 
alone,  and  more  than  a  thousand  leagues  from  his  kindred  and 
home.  ** 

But  the  excitement  of  passing  tho  rapids  of  a  large  river  like 
the  MissiHsippi,  exceeds  that  of  any  other  operation  connected 
with  voyaging.  The  strength,  dexterity,  ond  courage  required 
and  employed  for  passing 'them,  aro  astonishing.  I  have  been  in 
a  canoe,  and  on  account  of  a  stono  or  floating  tree  have  seen  it 
held  for  some  minutes  perfectly  still,  when  midway  up  a  foaming 
rapid,  merely  by  two  men  with  long  polos,  standing  at  each  end 
of  tho  canoe.  If,  at  such  a  time,  one  of  the  poles  should  slip,  or 
one  of  tho  men  make  a  wrong  move,  tho  canoe  would  bo  taken 
by  the  water  and  dashed  to  pieces  cither  on  tho  surrounding 
rocks,  or  the  still  more  rocky  shore.  It  is,  however,  much 
more  dangerous  to  descend  than  to  ascend  a  rapid ;  for  it  is 
then  almost  impossible  to  stop  a  canoe,  when  under  full  head- 
way, and  if  you  happen  to  strike  a  rock,  you  will  find  your 
wa/ery  canoe  no  better  than  a  sieve.  To  pass  down  the  Sault 
Saint  Marie,  with  an  experienced  voyugeur,  is  one  of  tho  most 
interesting,  yet  thrilling  and  fearful  feats  that  can  be  per- 
formed. There  are  rapids  and  falls,  however,  which  cannot  at 
any  time  be  passed  with  safety,  and  great  caution  is  required 
in  approaching  them. 

One  of  the  more  prominent  traits  of  the  voyageur's  charac- 
ter, is  his  cheerfulness.  Gay  and  mirthful  by  nature  and  habit 
— patient  ond  enduring  at  labor — seeking  neither  ease  nor 
wealth — and,  though  fond  of  his  family,  it  is  his  custom  to  let 
the  morrow  take  care  of  itself,  while  he  will  endeavor  to  im- 
prove the  present  hour  as  he  thinks  proper.  He  belongs  to  a 
race  which  is  entirely  distinct  from  all  others  on  the  globe.  It 
is  a  singular  fact,  that  when  most  troubled,  or  when  enduring 
the  severest  hardships,  they  will  joke,  laugh,  and  sing  their 
uncouth  songs — the  majority  of  which  are  extemporaneous,  ap- 
propriate to  the  occasion,  and  generally  of  a  rude  and  licen- 
tious character.    Indeed  it  is  said  of  some,  that  they  will  travel 


TUB  VOYAOEUR. 


116 


liundrcdu  of  miles  without  onoo  ooasing  to  ning,  nnd  without 
twice  singing  tho  same  song.  They  arc  invariably  sung  in 
Canadiun  French,  and  tho  following  literal  translations  may  bo 
looked  upon  as  favorable  specimens  of  songs,  which  I  first  heard 
on  the  Mississippi. 

f  ^t  Startiitfl. 

Homo,  wo  nro  loavinK  thoo  ! 
Rivor,  on  thy  boMoiii  to  sail  I 
Clioorfiil  let  our  hearts  ho, 
Suppurtcd  by  hope. 
Awiiy,  then,  iiwiiy !    Away,  then,  awiiy ! 

ScenoH  of  beauty  will  we  poHs ; 
SucnoH  that  make  us  lovo  our  life  : 
Oanie  of  the  wiUlornoHe  our  food. 
And  our  Hhimbcrs  guarded  by  tho  Btariii. 
Away,  th:i,  away !    Away,  then,  away  ! 

Homo,  we  are  leaving  thoo ! 
Rivor,  on  thy  bosom  to  sail ! 
Clieerful  let  our  hearts  be, 
Supported  by  hope. 
Away,  tiien,  away !    Away,  then,  away  ! 


4 


Wit  Mag. 

The  river  that  we  sail 
Is  tho  pride  of  our  country ; 
The  womou  that  wo  lovo 
Are  the  fairest  upon  earth. 
Row,  thou,  row !    Row,  thou,  row  I 

Toilsome  is  our  way. 
Dangerous  is  our  way  ; 
But  what  matter  ? 
Our  trust  is  in  Providence. 
Row,  then,  row !    Row,  then,  row ! 

The  river  that  wo  sail 
Is  tho  pride  of  our  country  ; 
The  women  that  wo  love 
Are  the  fairest  upon  earth. 
Row,  then,  row !    Row,  then,  row  I 


116 


THE  VOYAOBUR. 


*•""■ 


:  ■     ■  ■*     Ih 


f|[e  Sietnrn. 

Joy,  joy,  our  home  is  not  far ; 
Love-smiles  are  waiting  us ; 
And  we  shall  be  happy ! 
Happy,  happy,  happy. 
Bend  to  your  oars !    Bend  to  your  oars  I 

Loud,  loud,  let  our  voices  he, 
Echoing  our  gratitude ; 
Many  leagues  have  we  voyaged, 
But,  soon  shall  we  be  at  rest. 
Bend  to  your  oars,  brothers !   Bend  to  your  oars  I 

Joy,  joy,  our  home  is  in  sight; 
Love-smiles  are  waiting  us. 
And  we  shall  be  happy ! 
Happy,  happy,  happy ! 
Home  1    Bend  to  your  oars  1    Bend  to  your  oars ! 

The  same  canoe  in  which  I  explored  the  Upper  Mississippi, 
also  bore  me  in  safety  partly  around  the  shores  of  Lake  Supe- 
rior :  first,  eastward,  along  the  northern  shore,  then  back  again 
to  Fond  du  Lac ;  and  afterwards  along  the  southern  shore  to  the 
Apostle  Islands.  Delighted  as  I  was  with  my  canoe  wander- 
ings on  the  head-waters  of  the  Mighty  River,  I  am  constrained 
to  yield  the  palm  to  Superior.  For  many  days  did  I  explore 
its  picturesque  bays  and  extended  sweeps  of  shore,  following 
the  promptings  of  my  Mjayward  will,  and  storing  my  mind  with 
its  unnumbered  legends,  gathered  from  the  lips  of  my  Indian 
companions.  I  seldom  took  a  paddle  in  my  hand,  unless  it 
were  for  exercise,  but  usually  employed  my  time,  when  the 
weather  was  calm,  by  reading  or  sketching ;  and  often,  when 
the  sunshine  made  mo  sleepy,  have  been  lulled  into  a  dreamy 
repose,  by  the  measured  music  of  the  oars,  mingling  with  the 
wild  chanting  of  the  voyagcurs.  It  was  the  custom  with  my 
companions,  whenever  they  caught  me  in  those  lucid  intervals, 
to  startle  me,  by  a  piercing  whoop,  which  invariably  announced 
a  race  upon  the  watery  plain.  And  then,  indeed,  was  it  u 
most  exciting  spectacle  to  witness  the  canoes  gliding  to  the 
destined  goal.    Whenever  I  expressed  such  a  desire,  the  party 


THE  YOTAGBUB. 


IIT 


came  to  a  halt  upon  the  '.ore,  and  then  it  was  that  I  mounted 
the  headlands  to  gather  borries,  or  obtain  a  bird's-eye  prospect 
of  the  lake.  At  times,  the  roar  of  a  distant  waterfall  would 
fall  upon  the  ear,  and  I  was  wont  to  beg  an  hour's  furlough 
for  the  purpose  of  catching  a  dozen  or  two  of  trout  in  the 
waters  of  a  nameless  stream.  But  my  chief  employment,  when- 
ever we  landed,  was  to  gather  agates  and  pebbles.  In  many 
places  the  gravelly  shores  were  completely  covered  with  them ; 
and  often,  when  attracted  by  one  of  a  particular  color  or  an 
unusual  size,  and  when  deceived  by  the  marvellous  transpa- 
rency of  the  water,  have  I  found  myself  far  beyond  my  depth 
in  the  sleeping  waves,  which  event  was  about  the  only  one  that 
could  bring  me  to  my  senses.  Many  a  time,  like  a  very  child, 
have  I  rambled  along  the  beach  for  miles,  returning  to  my  canoe 
completely  loaded  down  with  my  treasures,  which  I  sometimes 
carried  with  me  on  my  journey  for  many  miles,  and  then  threw 
away  to  make  room  for  others  which  I  thought  still  more  beau- 
tiful. Delightful,  indeed,  were  those  summer  days  on  the 
bosom  of  that  lonely  lake.  They  are  associated  with  my  trea- 
sured dreams,  and  I  cannot  but  aigh  when  I  remember  that  I 
may  never  be  privileged  to  enjoy  the  like  again.  My  reason 
Avould  not  stop  the  tide  of  civilization  which  i|  sweeping  to  the 
^  remote  north  and  the  far  Pacific ;  but  if  the  wishes  of  my  heart 
were  realized,  none  but  the  tr«j  worshippers  of  Nature  should 
ever  be  permitted  to  mar  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness  with 
the  aoiig  of  Mammon. 

Jiat,  if  that  wei-e  possible,  the  nights  that  I  spent  upon  the 
shores  of  the  great  northern  lake  have  made  a  deeper  impres- 
sion upon  me  than  those  summer  days.  Never  before  had  the 
ocean  of  tlie  sky  and  the  starry  world  appeared  so  supremely 
brilliant.  Seldom  would  my  restless  spirit  allow  me  an  un- 
broken slumber  from  nightfall  until  dawn,  and  I  was  often  in 
a  wakeful  mood,  even  after  the  camp-fires  were  entirely  out, 
and  my  rude  companions  were  all  asleep.  One  of  those  won- 
derful nights  I  never  can  forget.  I  had  risen  from  my  couch 
upon  the  sand,  and  after  walking  nearly  half  a  mile  along  the 
beach,  I  passed  a  certain  point,  and  found  myself  in  full  view 


M' 


vj 


1/  ''»  ) 


•  Kil 


■  ■  -i 


\il 


i^i 


^M 


118 


THE  VOTAGEUR. 


of  the  following  scene.  Black,  and  death-like  in  its  repose, 
was  the  apparently  illimitable  p^  ain  of  water ;  above  its  out- 
line, on  the  left,  were  the  strangely  beautiful  northern  lights, 
shooting  their  rays  to  the  very  zenith ;  on  the  right  was  a  clear 
full  moon,  making  a  silvery  pathway  from  my  feet  to  the  hori- 
zon ;  and  before,  around,  and  above  me,  floating  in  *the  deep 
cerulean,  were  the  unnumbered  and  mysterious  stars.  The 
only  sound  that  fell  upon  my  ear  was  the  occasional  splash  of 
a  tiny  wave,  as  it  melted  upon  the  shore.  Long  and  intently 
did  I  gaze  upon  the  scene,  until,  in  a  kind  of  frenzy,  or  bewil- 
derment, I  threw  myself  upon  the  earth,  and  was  soon  in  a 
deep  sleep.  The  first  gleam  of  sunshine  roused  me  from 
slumber,  and  I  returned  to  our  encampment  in  a  thoughtful 
and  unhappy  mood.  My  friends  had  not  wondered  at  my  ab- 
sence, when  they  awoke,  "for  they  supposed  that  I  had  gone 
merely  to  take  my  accustomed  swim.  The  voyageur's  life  is 
indeed  a  romantic  one  ;  but  it  will  not  do  to  talk  about  it  for- 
ever, and  I  therefore  bring  my  description  to  a  close. 


0- 


m 


I  if --if^lIlM 
If';''   -b-l 


•  .5  ■  ;.  ■% 


PU 


THE  £!OPrER  REGION. 


I  AM  the  owner  of  a  few  sLares  of  copper  stock,  but  exceed- 
ingly anxious  to  dispose  of  my  interest,  ut  the  earliest  possible 
moment,  and  on  the  most  reasonable  term*!.  This  remark  de- 
fines my  position  with  regard  to  copper  in  general,  and  may 
be  looked  upon  as  thtf  text  from  which  1  shall  proceed  to  make 
a  few  general  observations  on  the  copper  region  of  Lake  Supe- 
rior. I  am  curious  to  find  out  how  it  will  seem,  for  the  public 
at  large,  to  road  something  which  is  not  a  purchased  puff. 
Those,  therefore,  who  are  unaccustomed  to  simple  matters  of 
fact,  will  please  pass  on  to  another  chapter  of  my  book, 
or  lay  it  down  as  the  most  insipid  volume  that  was  ever  pub- 
lished. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  all  the  hills  and  mountains  sur- 
rounding this  immense  lake,  abound  in  valuable  minerals,  of 
which  the  copper,  in  every  form,  is  the  most  abundant. 
The  lamented  Douglas  Houghton  has  published  the  opinion, 
that  this  region  contains  the  most  extensive  copper  mines  in 
the  known  world.  The  discoveries  which  have  been  made 
during  the  last  three  years  would  lead  one  to  suppose  this 
opinion  to  be  founded  in  truth. 

Not  to  mention  the  ship  loads  of  rich  ore  that  I  have  seen  at 
different  times,  I  would,  merely  to  give  my  reader  an  idea  of 
what  is  doing  here,  give  the  weight  of  a  few  distinguished  dis- 
coveries that  I  have  actually  seen. 

The  native  copper  boulder,  discovered  by  the  traveller  Henry, 
in  the  bod  of  the  Ontonagon  river,  and  now  in  Washington, 
originally  weighed  thirty-eight  hundred  pounds ;  a  copper  mass 


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120 


THE  COPPER  REGION. 


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of  the  imme  material  lately  found  near  Copper  Harbor, 
weighed  twelve  hundred  pounds  ;  at  Copper  Falls,  the  miners 
are  now  at  work  (1846)  upon  a  vein  of  solid  ore,  which  already 
measures  twenty  feet  in  length,  nine  in  depth,  and  seven  and  a 
half  inches  m  thickness,  which  must  weigh  a  number  of  tons ; 
and  at  Eagle  River  another  boulder  has  lately  been  brought  to 
light,  weighing  seventeen  hundred  pounds. 

As  to  native  silver,  the  Eagle  River  valley  has  yielded,  the 
largest  specimen  jet  found  about  this  lake,  the  weight  of  which 
was  si;c  pounds  tea  ounces.  These  are  mineral  statistics  from 
which  ittay  be  drawn  as  great  a  variety  of  conclusions  as  thei  t 
are  minds. 

The  numbfer  of  mining  companies  which  purport  to  be  in 
operation  on  the  American  shore  of  Lake  Superior  and  on  our 
islands,  is  said  to  be  one  hundred;  and»the  number  of  stock 
shares  is  not  far  from  three  hundred  thousand.  But  notwith- 
standing all  the  fuss  that  has  been,  aqd  is  still  made,  about  the 
mining;  op<'rations  here,  a  nmelting  furnace  has  not  yet  been 
erected,  and  only  three  companies,  up  to  the  present  time, 
have  made  any  shipments  of  ore.  The  oldest  of  these  is  the 
Lake  Superior  Company ;  the  most  successi'ul,  the  Pittsburg 
and  Boston  Company ;  and  the  other  is  the  Copper  Falls  Com- 
pany, all  of  which  are  confined  in  their  operations  to  Point 
Keweenaw. 

This  point  is  at  present  the  centre  of  attraction  to  those 
who  are  worshipping  the  copper  Mammon  of  the  age.  It  is  a 
mountainous  district,  covered  with  a  comparatively  useless  pine 
forest,  exceedingly  rocky  and  not  distinguished  for  its  beauti- 
ful scenery.  As  to  the  great  majority  of  the  mining  companies 
alluded  to,  they  will  undoubtedly  sink  a  good  deal  more  money 
than  they  can  possibly  make ;  and  for  the  reason,  that  they 
are  not  possessed  of  sufficient  capital  to  carry  on  the  mining 
business  properly,  and  are  managed  by  inexperienced  and  vi- 
sionary men — a  goodly  number  of  whom  have  failed  in  every 
business  in  Avhich  they  ever  figured,  and  who  are  generally  ad- 
venturers, determined  to  live  by  speculation  instead  of  honest 
labor.     The  two  principal  log  cabin  cities  of  Point  Keweenaw, 


,'■>/>»!»}«.. 


tfthitvi 


THE  COPPER  REGION. 


121 


arc  Copper  Harbor  and  Eagle  River.  The  former  is  quite  a 
good  harbor,  and  supports  a  vacated  garrison,  a  newspaper,  a 
very  good  boarding-house,  and  several  intemperance  establish- 
ments. The  latter  has  a  fine  beach  for  a  harbor,  a  boarding- 
house,  a  saw-mill,  and  a  store,  where  drinking  is  the  principal 
business  transacted.  The  number  of  resident  inhabitants  in 
the  two  towns  I  was  unable  to  learn,  but  the  sum  total  I  sup- 
pose wo  lid  amount  *to  fifty  souls. 

AltofjOthcr  perhaps  five  hundred  miners  and  clerks  may  be 
engage  1  on  the  whole  Point,  while  about  as  -•'.any  more,  during 
the  summer^  are  hanging  about  the  general  stopping  places  on 
the  shore,  or  the  working  places  in  the  interior.  This  brother- 
liood  is  principally  composed  of  upstart  geologists,  explorers, 
and  location  speculators.  From  all  that  I  can  learn,  about 
the  same  state  of  things  exists  on  the  Canada  side  of  the  lake. 
T^venty  companies* are  already  organized  for  that  section  of 
country,  the  most  promising  of  which  is  the  Montreal  Mining 
Company ;  but  not  a  pound  of  ore  has  yet  been  smelted  or 
taken  to  market,  so  that  the  "subject  theme,"  for  the  present, 
is  as  barren  of  real  interest  there,  as  in  our  own  territory. 
Rationally  speaking,  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is  just 
this :  the  Lake  Superior  region  undoubtedly  abounds  in  valu- 
;ible  minerals,  but  as  yet  a  sufficient  length  of  time  has  not 
elapsed  to  develop  its  resources ;  three  quarters  of  the  people 
(the  remaining  quarter  are  among  the  most  worthy  of  the  land) 
now  engaged  in  mining  operations,  are  what  might  bo  termed 
dishonest  speculatoi's  and  inexperienced  adventurers :  but  there 
is  no  doubt  that  if  a  now  order  of  things  should  be  brought 
into  existence  here,  all  those  who  are  prudent  and  industrious 
would  accumulate  fortunes. 

I  ought  not  to  leave  this  brazen  theme,  without  alluding  to 
the  science  of  geology  as  patronized  in  the  mineral  region. 
Not  only  does  the  nabob  stockholder  write  pamphlets  about 
the  mines  of  the  Ural  mountains,  and  other  neighboring  regions, 
l)ut  even  the  broken-down  New  York  merchant,  who  now  sells 
whisky  to  the  poor  miner,  stroke?  his  huge  whiskers,  and  de- 
scants upon  the  black  oxyd,  the  native  ore,  and  the  peculiar 


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122 


THE  COPPER  REGION. 


formation  of  every  hillBide  in  the  country.  Without  exception, 
I  believe,  all  the  men,  womei  and  children  residing  in  the  cop- 
per cities,  have  been  crystalized  into  finished  geologists.  It 
matters  not  how  limited  their  knowledge  of  the  English  lan- 
guage may  be,  for  they  look  only  to  the  surface  of  things ;  it 
matters  not  how  empty  of  common  sense  their  brain--3hambers 
may  be,  they  are  wholly  absorbed  in  sheeting  their  minds  and 
hearts  with  the  bright  red  copper,  and  are  all  loudly  eloquent 
on  their  favorite  theme. 

But  the  grand  lever  which  they  use  to  advance  their  intereste, 
is  the  word  "  conglomerate,"  which  answers  as  a  general  de- 
scription of  the  surrounding  country.  You  stand  upon  a  com- 
manding hill-top,  and  whilst  lost  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  fine 
landscape,  a  Copper  Harbor  "bear"  or  "bull,"  recently  from 
Wall  street,  will  slap  you  on  the  shoulder,  and  startle  the  sur- 
rounding air  with  the  following  yell :  "  That  whole  region,  sir, 
is  conglomerate,  and  exceedingly  rich  in  copper  and  silver." 
You  ask  your  landlady  for  a  drop  of  milk  to  flavor  your  cofiee, 
and  she  will  tell  you  "  that  her  husband  has  exchanged  the  old 
red  cow  for  a  conglomerate  location  somewhere  in  the  interior," 
thereby  proving  that  a  comfortable  living  is  a  secondary  con- 
sideration in  this  life.  You  happen  to  see  a  little  girl  arrang- 
ing some  rocky  specimens  in  her  baby-house,  and  on  your  ask- 
ing her  name,  she  will  probably  answer — "  Conglomerate  the 
man,  my  name,  sir,  is  Jane."  But  enough.  It  will  not  do  for 
me  to  continue  in  this  strain,  for  fear  that  my  readers  will,  like  . 
my  mining  friends,  be  made  crazy  by  a  remarkable  conglomer- 
ate literary  specimen  from  the  mineral  region. 


SAULT   SAINT   MARIE. 


ji  ;|i  tp 


OnK  more  letter  from  this  place,  and  I  shall  take  my  leave 
of  Lake  Siverior.  Saint  Marie  was  formerly  a  trading  post 
of  venctvn:  it  is  now  a  village  of  considerable  business;  and 
as  the  resources  of  the  mineral  region  are  developed,  will  un- 
doubtedly become  a  town  of  importance  in  a  commercial  point 
of  view ;  and  the  contemplated  ship  canal  through  this  place 
(which  would  allow  a  boat  from  Buffalo  to  discharge  her  freight 
or  passengers  at  Fo'>d  Du  Lac)  ought  not  to  be  delayed  a  single 
year.  There  is  a  garrison  at  this  point ;  the  society  is  good, 
bad,  and  indifferent,  and  in  the  summer  sear.on  it  is  one  of  the 
busiest  little  places  in  the  country.  At  the  present  time  its 
inhabitants  are  in  a  state  of  unusual  excitement,  on  account  of 
a  cold-blooded  murder  recently  committed  here.  The  victim 
was  a  brother  of  Henry  R.  Schoolcraft,  the  well-known  author, 
and  the  assassin  was  John  Tanner.  The  deed  was  performed 
in  open  daylight,  and  the  deceased  was  killed  by  a  bullet  shot 
from  an  ambush,  while  he  was  walking  along  the  road.  From 
all  that  I  have  heard,  it  appears  that  this  man  Tanner  was  born 
in  Virginia,  and  having  been  kidnapped  by  the  Indians  on  the 
Ohio,  when  a  boy,  has  for  forty-six  years  led  the  life  of  an 
Indian,  but  performing  the  duties  of  an  interpreter.  He  is  the 
same  man,  moreover,  who  went  to  New  York  in  1830,  and  pub- 
lished a  history  of  hia  life  and  adventures.  It  is  said  that  he, ' 
many  years  ago,  had  a  quarrel  with  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  the  author, 
but  as  that  gentleman  resided  at  the  east,  and  there  was  no 
chance  of  Tanner's  having  an  opportunity  to  revenge  himself 
upon  his  enemy,  he  not  long  ago  declared  his  intention  of  kill- 


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124 


SAULT  SAINT  MARIE. 


ing  the  brother,  who  resided  here  as  a  trader.  The  threat  was 
treated  us  a  joke,  but  terminated  too  fatally.  A  party  of  white 
men  and  Indians  is  now  on  Tanner's  trail,  but  the  prospect  of 
capturing  him  is,  alas,  uncertain,  and  the  white  savage  will  pro- 
bably seek  a  homo  in  the  Hudson's  Bay  Territory.  But  I  in- 
tend this  to  be  a  piscatorial  letter,  and  must  therefore  change 
my  tunc. 

The  river  Saint  Marie,  opposite  this  village,  is  about  two 
miles  wide,  and  having  found  its  way  out  of  a  deep  bay  of  the 
ocean  lake,  it  here  rushes  over  a  ledge  of  rocks  in  great  fury, 
and  presents,  for  the  distance  of  nearly  a  mile,  a  perfect  sheet 
of  foam,  and  this  spot  is  called  the  Sault,  signifying  falls.  The 
entire  height  of  the  fall  is  about  thirty  feet,  and  after  the  waters 
have  expressed,  in  a  murmuring  roar,  their  unwillingness  to 
leave  the  bosom  of  Superior,  they  finally  hush  themselves  to 
sleep,  and  glide  onward,  as  if  in  a  dream,  along  the  picturesque 
shores  of  a  lonely  country,  until  they  mingle  with  the  waters  of 
Lake  Huron. 

The  principal  fish  of  this  region  are  trout  and  white-fish, 
which  ere  among  the  finest  varieties  in  the  world,  and  are  here 
found  in  their  gr'eatest  perfection.  Of  the  trout,  the  largest 
species  of  Lake  Superior  is  called  the  lake  trout,  and  they  vary 
from  ten  to  sixty  pounds  in  weight.  Their  flesh  is  precisely 
similar  to  that  of  the  salmon  in  appearance,  but  they  are  not 
as  delicious  as  an  article  of  food. .  The  Indians  take  them  in 
immense  quantities,  with  the  gill-net,  during  the  spring  and 
summer,  where  the  water  is  one  hundred  feet  deep ;  but  in  the 
autumn,  when  the  fish  hover  about  the  shores,  for  the  purpose 
oi'  spawning,  the  Indians  catch  them  with  the  spear  by  torch- 
light. They  also  have  a  mode  of  taking  them  in  the  winter 
through  the  ice.  After  reaching  the  fishing-ground,  they  cut  a 
hole  in  the  ice,  over  which  they  erect  a  kind  of  wigwam,  and 
in  which  they  seat  themselves  for  action.  They  attach  a  piece 
of  meat  to  a  cord  as  bait,  which  they  lower  and  pull  up  for  the 
purpose  of  attracting  the  trout,  thereby  alluring  the  unsuspect- 
ing creature  to  the  top  of  the  hole,  when  they  pick  it  out  with 
a  spear.   An  Indian  has  been  known  to  catch  a  thousand  weight 


b\UI.T  SAINT  MARIE. 


12i 


in  one  day,  in  this  novel  manner.  But  as  the  ice  on  Lake  Su- 
perior is  seldom  suffered  to  become  very  thick,  on  account  of 
the  frequent  storms,  it  sometimes  happens  that  these  solitary 
fishermen  are  borne  away  from  the  shore,  and  perish  in  the 
bosom  of  the  deep. 

My  mode  of  fishing  for  laks  trout,  however,  was  wjth  the 
hook.  In  coasting  along  the  lake  in  my  canoe,  I  sometimes 
threw  out  about  two  hundred  fee'j  of  line,  to  which  was  attached 
a  stout  hook  and  u  piece  of  pork,  and  I  seldom  tried  this  ex- 
periment for  an  hour, without  capturing  a  fifteen  or  twenty 
pounder.  At  other  -times,  when  the  lake  was  still,  and  I  was 
in  the  mood,  I  have  paddled  to  where  the  water  was  fifty  feet 
in  depth,  and  with  a  drop-line  have  taken,  in  twenty  minutes, 
more  trout  than  I  could  eat  in  a  fortnight,  which  I  generally 
distributed  among  my  Indian  companions. 

A  fish  called  ciscowet,  is  unquestionably  of  the  trout  genus, 
but  much  more  delicious,  and  seldom  found  to  weigh  more  tha  i 
a  dozen  pounds.  They  are  a  very  beautiful  fish,  peculiar  1  o 
this  lake,  and  at  the  present  time  almost  too  fat  to  be  palatable . 
Their  habits  are  similar  to  those  of  the  trout,  and  they  are 
taken  in  the  same  manner. 

But  the  fish  of  this  region,  and  of  the  world,  is  the  common 
trout.  The  five  rivers  which  empty  into  Lake  Superior  on  the 
north,  and  the  thirty  streams  which  run  from  the  south,  all 
abound  in  this  superb  fish,  which  vary  from  ten  to  forty  ounces 
in  weight.  But  the  finest  place  for  this  universal  favorite,  in 
this  region,  is,  without  any  doubt,  the  Falls  of  Saint  Mario. 
At  this  spot  they  are  in  season  throughout  the  year,  from  whicli 
circumstance  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  there  must  be  several 
varieties,  which  closely  resemble  each  other.  At  one  time  you 
may  fish  all  day  and  not  capture  a  single  specimen  that  will 
weigh  over  a  pound,  and  at  another  time  you  may  take  a  boat- 
load of  them,  which  will  average  from  three  to  four  pounds  in 
weight.  My  favorite  mode  of  trouting  at  this  place  has  been 
to  enter  a  canoe  and  cast  anchor  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids, 
where  the  water  was  ten  or  fifteen  feet  deep,  but  owing  to  its 
manellous  clearness,  appeared  to  be  about  three,  and  where 


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126 


8AULT  SAINT  MARIE. 


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the  bed  of  the  river  or  strait  is  completely  covered  with  snow- 
white  rocks.  I  usually  fished  with  a  fly  or  artificial  minnow, 
and  was  never  disappointed  in  catching  a  fine  assortment  when- 
ever I  went  out.  My  favoi  ice  spot  was  about  midway  between 
th«i  American  and  Canadian  shores,  and  there  have  I  spent 
whole  days  enjoying  the  rarest  sport ;  now  looking  with  wonder 
at  the  wall  of  foam  between  me  and  the  mighty  lake ;  now  gaz- 
ing upon  the  dreamy-looking  scenery  on  either  side  and  far 
below  me ;  and  anon  peering  into  the  clear  water  to  watch  the 
movements  of  the  trout  as  they  darted  /rom  the  shady  side  of 
one  rock  to  another,  or  leaped  completely  out  of  their  native 
element  to  seize  the  hovering  fly.  I  have  taken  trout  in  more 
than  one  half  of  the  United  States,  but  have  never  seen  a  spot 
where  they  were  so  abundant  as  in  this  region ;  but  I  must  ac- 
knowledge that  there  are  streams  in  New  England  and  New 
York  where  I  have  thrown  the  fly  with  more  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment than  in  the  river  Saint  Marie. 

But  I  must  devote  a  paragraph  to  the  white-fish  of  Lake  Su- 
perior. They  are  of  the  shad  genus,  and  with  regard  to  flavor 
are  second  only  to  their  salt-water  brethren.  They  are  taken 
at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  with  gill-nets  and  the  seine,  in  the 
deep  waters  of  the  lake ;  at  this  point,  however,  the  Indians 
catch  them  with  a  scoop-net,  and  in  the  following  manner.  Two 
Indians  jump  into  a  canoe  above  the  rapids,  and  while  one  navi- 
gates it  among  the  rocks  and  through  the  foaming  waters,  the 
other  stands  on  the  look-out,  and  with  the  speed  of  lightning 
picks  out  the  innocent  creatures  while  working  their  way  up  the 
stream  unconscious  of  all  danger.  This  is  a  mode  of  fishing 
which  requires  great  courage,  immense  strength,  and  a  steady 
nerve.  A  very  slight  mistake  on  the  part  of  the  steersman,  or 
a  false  movement  of  the  net-man,  will  cause  the  canoe  to  be 
swamped,  when  the  inmates  have  to  struggle  with  the  foam 
awhile,  until  they  reach  the  still  water,  and  then  strike  for  the 
shore,  there  to  be  laughed  at  by  their  rude  brethren  of  the  wil- 
derness, while  the  passing  stranger  will  wonder  that  they  should 
attempt  such  dangerous  sport.  But  accidents  of  this  kind  sel- 
dom happen,  and  when  they  do  the  Indians  anticipate  no  dan- 


T"*"*!^.,, 


SAULT  SAINT  MARIE. 


127 


gor,  from  the  fact  that  they  arc  all  such  export  swimmers.  It 
took  me  three  days  to  muster  sufficient  courage  to  go  down 
these  rapids  in  a  canoe  with  an  Indian,  and  though  I  performed 
the  feat  without  being  harmed,  I  was  so  frightened  that  I  did 
not  capture  a  single  fish,  though  I  must  have  seen,  within  my 
reach,  upwards  of  a  thousand.  The  white-fish,  cisoowet,  and 
lake  trout  have  already  become  an  article  of  export  from  this* 
region,  and  I  believe  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  the  fish- 
eries of  Lake  Superior  will  be  considered  among  the  most  lucra- 
tive of  the  Union. 

At  the  several  distances  of  two  or  three  miles  from  the  vil- 
lage are  two  streams,  called  Carp  River  and  Dead  River,  which 
also  afford  some  capital  trout  fishing,  but  the  black  flies  and 
musquitos  are  intolerable  upon  both  of  them. 


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fix  A      /     J-  .       '.    -  ■ 


I  NOAV  write  from  Mackinaw,  the  beautiful,  which  studs  the 
waters  of  the  north,  as  does  the  northern  star  its  own  cerulenii 
home.  But  what  can  I  say  about  this  island  that  will  be  new, 
since  "  everybody"  now  pays  it  a  brief  visit  while  journeying  in 
the  West?  It  is  indeed  one  of  the  most  unique  and  delightful 
places  in  the  world.  Its  shores  are  laved  by  the  waters  of  Su- 
perior, Michigan,  and  Huron,  und  rising  abruptly  as  it  docs  to 
a  conppicuous  height,  it  seems  as  if  planted  there  by  nature  as 
a  fortress,  for  the  cxpress.purpose  of  protecting  the  lakes  from 
which  it  sprung.  I  first  approached  it  from  the  north,  on  a  miM 
and  hazy  afternoon,  and  as  it  loomed  before  me,  enveloped  in  u 
purple  atmosphere,  I  looked  upon  it  in  silence,  almost  fearing 
that  even  the  beating  of  my  heart  would  dispel  what  I  thought 
to  be  a  mere  illusion.  As  our  vessel  approached,  however,  it 
gradually  changed  into  a  dreamy  reality,  and  I  could  distin- 
guish its  prominent  characteristics.  First,  was  a  perpendicu- 
lar bluff,  crowned  with  a  diadem  of  foliage,  at  the  foot  of  which 
was  an  extensive  beach,  occupied  by  an  Indian  encampment, 
where  the  rude  barbarians  were  sunning  themselves  like  tur- 
tles, playing  fantastic  games,  repairing  their  canoes,  makini; 
mats,  or  cooking  their  evening  meal,  as  fancy  or  necessity  im- 
pelled. One  sudden  turn,  and  our  vessel  was  gliding  gently 
into  a  crescent  bay,  which  was  skirted  with  a  cluster  of  trading 
houses  and  ancient  looking  dwellings,  above  which,  on  a  bluff, 
was  a  snow-white  fortress,  with  soldiers  marching  to  and  fro 
upon  the  battlements.  ' 

The  circumference  of  this  island  is  about  nine  miles,  and  its 


wEitv;<, 


MACKINAW. 


129 


shores  are  bold  and  rocky.  The  scenery  is  romantic  in  the 
extreme,  and  it  has  four  natural  curiosities,  cither  one  of  which 
would  give  a  reputation  to  any  ordinary  island.  Arched  Rock 
faces  the  north,  and  rises  from  the  water  to  the  height  of  nearly 
two  hundred  feet,  presenting  from  your  canoe  a  superb  piece 
of  wave-formed  architecture;  and  appearing,  as  you  look 
through  it  from  the  summit,  like  the  gateway  to  a  now  world. 
Robinson's  Folly  is  also  on  the  north  shore,  and  is  a  picturesque 
bluff,  which  obtained  its  name  after  the  following  manner. 
Many  years  ago  an  Englishman,  named  Ro^mson,  spent  a  sum- 
mer on  the  island,  and  while  *hcre,  erected  for  his  own  especial 
benefit,  a  summer-house  on  the  summit  of  the  bluff  in  question, 
lie  was  laughed  at  for  his  pains,  and  was  wained  by  'lo  cau- 
tious traders  and  Indians  not  to  spend  too  much  of  his  time  on 
the  cliff,  and  especially  not  to  visit  it  when  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing. He  scorned  the  advice  which  was  given  him  in  !  i  idncss, 
and  to  show  his  independence,  he  frequently  spent  t  .0  ni^.ht  in 
his  eyrie.  On  one  occasion,  however,  in  the  darkness  of  mid- 
night, a  thunder  ijtorm  passed  over  the  island,  and  at  sunrise 
on  the  following  morning,  the  "cabin  of  tho  cliff"  and  its  un- 
fortunate inmate  were  buried  in  the  deep.  Hence  tho  namo  of 
Robinson's  Folly.  Another  interesting  spot  on  thii  island  is 
called  the  Cave  of  Skulls.  It  lies  on  the  western  shore,  and  is 
mainly  distinguished  for  its  historical  associations.  More  than 
a  hundred  years  ago,  according  to  one  tradition,  a  party  of 
Sioux  Indians,  while  pursued  by  the  Ottowas,  secreted  them- 
selves in  this  cave;  and  when  they  '"re  discovered,  which 
happened  soon  to  be  the  case,  the  Otcv'':.;^  built  a  fire  before 
the  entrance  to  the  cave,  which  they  kept  up  for  several  days, 
and  when  they  finaMy  entered  tho  gloomy  chamber,  their  ene- 
mies were  all  dead.  The  truth  of  this  story  is  corroborated  by 
an  incident  recorded  by  Heury.  After  the  massacre  of  Mich- 
ilimaokinack,  this  traveler,  whose  life  had  been  threatened,  was 
secreted  in  this  cave  by  a  friendly  Indian.  He  was  shown  into 
it  in  the  evening,  scrambled  over  what  he  thought  a  very  sin- 
gular floor,  slept  soundly  during  the  night,  and  on  awaking 
in  the  morning,  found  himself  reclining  on  a  bed  of  human 
9 


;,  i**! 


r.  r> 


J^i!iril<'( 


/I..-  -l/'.'l-' '. 


.il**"" 


.\ai:.- 


m^ 


^. 


180 


MACKINAW. 


bones.  Another  Mackinaw  curiosity  is  called  the  Needle,  and 
is  a  lighthouse-looking  rock,  which  overlooks  the  entire  island, 
and  throws  its  shadow  upon  the  ruins  of  Fort  Holmes,  which 
are  now  almost  level  with  the  ground,  and  overgrown  with 
weeds. 

During  my  stay  at  Mackinaw  the  weather  continued  ex- 
tremely pleasant,  and  as  I  fancied  myself  midway  between  the 
wilderness  and  the  crowded  city, — escaped  from  the  dangers  of 
the  first,  and  not  yet  entered  upon  the  troubles  of  the  latter, — 
I  threw  away  all  care,  and  wandered  hither  and  thither,  the  vic- 
tim of  an  idle  will.  At  one  tim»  I  took  my  sketch-book  for 
the  purpose  of  portraying  some  interesting  point  upon  the  is- 
land, and  if  a  party  of  ladies  happened  to  discover  mo  in  my 
shady  haunt,  I  answered  their  smiles  with  a  remark,  and  the 
interview  generally  terminated  in  my  presenting  each  one  of 
them  with  a  sketch,  when  they  would  pass  on,  and  I  would  dive 
deeper  into  the  green  woodland.  At  another  time  I  sought  the 
brow  of  some  overhanging  cliff,  and  gazed  into  the  translucent 
waters,  now  letting  my  fancy  revel  among  the  snow-white  cav- 
erns far  below,  and  now  watching  the  cautious  movements  of  a 
solitary  lake-trout,  as  he  left  the  deeper  waters  for  an  exploring 
expedition  in  the  vicinity  of  the  shore.  But  I  never  witnessed 
such  a  sight  without  being  affected,  somewhat  like  the  war- 
horse  when  listening  to  the  trumpet's  bray,  and  in  an  hour 
afterwards,  I  was  usually  in  a  boat,  about  a  mile  from  shore, 
trying  my  luck  with  an  artificial  minnow  and  fifty  yards  of 
line.  Now,  I  strolled  along  the  beach  where  the  Indians  were 
encamped,  and  after  gathering  a  lot  of  romantic  legends  from 
the  old  men,  or  after  spending  an  hour  talking  with  some  of 
the  virgin  squaws,  while  making  their  beautiful  matting,  I 
would  coax  a  lot  of .  Indian  boys  to  accompany  me,  when 
we  enjoyed  a  swim,  mostly  for  our  mutual  recreation,  and  partly 
for  my  own  instruction  in  the  manly  art,  which,  with  the  red 
man  is  a  part  of  his  nature.  Sometimes  I  strolled  into  the 
fort  to  converse  with  the  commanding  officers,  or  wasted  a  little 
powder  in  firing  at  a  target  with  the  soldierc. 

Mackinaw,  during  the  season  of  navigation,  is  one  of  the 


UACKINAW. 


131 


busiest  little  places  in  the  world.  All  the  Detroit  and  Chicago 
steamers  stop  here  in  passing  to  and  fro,  and  usually  tarry  a 
sufficient  length  of  time  to  let  their  passengers  take  a  hasty 
ride  over  the  island,  and  to  replenish  their  larders  with  trout 
and  white-fish,  which  are  commonly  taken  on  board  in  cart- 
loads. From  time  immemorial  the  Indians  have  been  annu- 
ally summoned  to  this  island,  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  their 
regular  instalments  from  the  government,  in  the  shape  of  mer- 
chandise and  money,  and  on  these  occasions  it  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  see  an  assembly  of  three  thousand  fantastically  dressed 
savages.  But  in  the  winter  this  place  is  entirely  ice-bound, 
and  of  course,  completely  isolated.  Then  it  is  that  the  inhabi- 
'  tants  are  favored  with  a  monthly  mail,  which  is  brought  from 
Saginaw  by  Indians  or  Half-breeds,  on  sledges  drawn  by  dogs ; 
and  fishing,  skating,  and  story-telling  are  about  the  only  ftings 
which  tend  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  a  winter  spent  upon  the 
island. 

Like  so  many  of  the  beautiful  places  on  our  western  frontier, 
Mackinaw  is  now  in  a  transition  state.  Heretofore  it  has  been 
the  Indian's  congregating  place,  but  its  aboriginal  glory  is  rap- 
idly departing,  and  it  will  soon  be  the  fashionable  resort  of 
summer  travelers.  Its  peculiar  location,  picturesque  scenery 
and  the  tonic  character  of  its  climate,  are  destined  to  make  it 
one  of  the  most  attractive  watering  places  in  the  country.  And 
now,  I  am  admonished  that  one  of  the  Chicago  steamers  is  in 
sight,  and  I  must  prepare  my  luggage,  previous  to  taking  pas- 
sage for  the  home  of  my  childhood,  in  Southern  Michi^n, 
where  I  shall  remain  a  few  days,  and  then  l^asten  to  my  city 
home  on  the  Atlantic. 


\^^^. 


1,1 

-  \\\ 


■•-;■;    ir\i   ^fi'Ja^B^tty ainns:} 


>«; 


'•rs:' 


^ff-Jr^IJ 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF   MICHIGAN. 


MiCHiSAWGYEGAN  is  the  Indian  name  for  the  State  of  Michi- 
gan, and  the  meaning  of  it  is  the  Lake  Country.  It  is  my 
native  State,  and  as  I  have  recently  visited  it  after  an  absence 
of  more  than  a  dozen  years,  and  it  is  not  yet  entirely  re- 
deenred  from  its  original  state  of  nature,  it  is  meet,  I  ween, 
that  I  should,  while  within  its  borders,  wind  up  my  echoes  of 
the  wilderness.  This  is  the  country  where  I  spent  the  morn- 
ing of  my  days ; — the  theatre  where  my  future  character  in 
the  drama  of  life  was  formed  and  first  acted  out.  Remote 
from  the  glitter  and  noise  of  the  great  hum.an  world,  I  used  to 
wander  alone  through  its  dark  forests,  and  bathe  in  its  pure 
streams,  without  a  care  or  thought  to  mar  the  peacefulness  of 
life.  A  thousand  words,  now  full  of  meaning,  and  familiar  to 
my  ear,  were  then  but  unmeaning  sounds.  Those  Avere  the 
days  when  I  sported  on  the  lap  of  nature,  feeling  it  a  luxury 
to  breathe.  Will  they  ever  return  ?  Ask  that  evening  breeze 
wh^her  it  will  ever  again  cool  the  fevered  brow  of  that  dying 
man  ?  But  very  dear  to  me  are  my  recollections  of  Michigan, 
and  I  would  not  part  with  them  for  the  treasures  of  the  world. 

The  character  of  its  scenery  and  people  is  as  original  as  its 
situation.  Almost  surrounded  by  water,  it  possesses  all  the 
advantages  of  an  island,  while  at  the  same  time  it  is  but  a 
small  portion  of  a  vast  whole.  Its  streams  are  numerous  and 
clear,  but  generally  sluggish.  A  portion  of  the  extreme  north 
is  uninhabited  by  human  beings,  owing  to  its  barrenness. 
Huge  granite  mountains  here  loom  upward  in  eternal  soli- 
tude ;  sometimes  presenting  the  appearance  of  having  been 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


133 


severed  asunder,  and  scattered  around  by  some  mighty  convul- 
sion of  nature.  On  the  borders  of  the  cold  and  desolate  lakes 
thus  formed,  the  crane  and  bittern  rear  their  young.  Occa- 
sionally, on  the  brow  of  some  jutting  crag,  may  bo  discovered 
the  meagre  hut  of  some  poor  Indian.  Perhaps  a  barbarous 
anchorite,  to  whom  the  voice  of  his  fellow-man  is  a  grating 
sound,  and  to  whom  existence  is  but  a  mist,  a  dream ;  or  it  may 
bo  some  disgraced  warrior,  who  has  been  banished  from  friends 
and  home,  to  dwell  in  this  dreary  solitude,  with  no  companions 
but  a  half-starved  dog,  rugged  pines,  and  frowning  rocks.  But 
this  section  is  said  to  contain  the  richest  copper  mine  in  the 
known  wosld. 

The  surface  of  the  western  half  is  destitute  of  rocks,  and  un- 
dulating ;  and  it  is  here  that  the  loveliest  of  lakes  and  streams 
and  prairies  are  to  be  found.  Lake  Michigan,  the  second  in 
the  world,  is  its  western  boundary.  The  eastern  portion  is 
entirely  original  in  its  appearance,  possessing  many  beauties 
peculiarly  its  own.  It  is  so  level  and  low  that  a  stranger  ap- 
proaching it  from  Lake  Erie  is  often  surprised  to  find  himself 
in  port,  while  in  the  act  of  looking  out  for  land.  This  shore 
is  watered  by  the  Huron,  St.  Clair,  and  Erie. 

No  one,  who  has  never  witnessed  them,  can  form  any  idea 
of  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  thousand  lakes  which  gem  the 
western  part  of  Michigan.  They  are  the  brightest  and  purest 
mirrors  the  sky  has  ever  used  to  adorn  itself.  Their  banks  are 
frequently  dotted  by  human  dwellings,  the  humble  though  com- 
fortable abodes  of  a  sturdy  yeomanry.  That  one  which  takes 
its  name  from  an  Indian  called  Baubeese,  and  is  the  outlet  of 
the  St.  Joseph  river,  I  will  match  against  any  other  of  its  size 
in  the  world. 

Notwithstanding  what  has  been  so  often  said  by  the  artificial 
inhabitants  of  cities,  concerning  the  hardships  and  ignorance 
of  the  backwoodsman's  life,  there  is  many  a  stout  heart,  exalted 
mind,  and  noble  soul,  whose  dwelling-place  has  been  for  years 
on  the  borders  of  these  very  lakes.  I  know  this  to  be  true,  for 
I  have  slept  beneath  their  roofs,  and  often  partaken  of  their 
johnny-cake  and  fat  quails.    No, — no.     I  love  these  men  as 


ifi^^M 

i^Bn 

^^^m 

^■^ 

'  T^BI 

Pf^BWr 

M^^  ^'^^91^1 

kmI^bVNi 

''46!m£9M 

^^■K<9 

1^  '•■^jjjlHi 

W|BB.':lr 

pnOfl 

rdlB't 

P^^^^n 

iUMW^'i!- 

1,?1 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


■  HU 


Si 


:'•*■ 


Ui-*' 


-*t^ 


brothers,  and  shall  always  frown  upon  that  dandy  who  sets 
down  aught  against  them, — in  malice  or  in  igr.orance. 

lome  of  these  little  lakes  smile  in  perpetual  solitude.  One 
'  f  t'lem  is  before  me  now.  It  is  summer.  The  sun  ic  above 
its  iitre.  Deep  and  dark  and  still  are  the  shadows  of  the 
surrounding  trees  and  bushes.  On  the  broad  leaf  of  a  water- 
lily  a  green  snake  is  curled  up,  with  his  head  elevated,  and  his 
tongue  gleaming  in  the  sunlight.  He  is  the  enemy  of  all  fly- 
ing insects  and  little  birds,  and  if  you  watch  him  a  little  longer 
you  will  see  one  of  them  decoyed  to  death  by  the  power  of  his 
charm.  Hush  !  there  is  a  stir  among  the  dry  leaves.  It  is 
but  a  lonely  doe  coming  to  quench  her  thirst.  Is  gjie  not  the 
Queen  of  Beauty  ?  There  she  stands,  knee-deep  in  water, 
looking  downwards,  admiring  the  brightness  of  her  eyes  and 
the  gracefulness  of  her  neck.  How  Leigh  Hunt  would  enjoy 
a  ramble  here !  His  favorite  flowers, — the  rose,  the  violet,  the 
lily,  and  the  sweet-briar,  would  each  sing  him  a  song  more  sweet 
and  delicate  than  their  first.  What  bright  hue  is  that  in  the 
middle  of  the  lake  ?    It  is  but  the  reflection  of 

a  vapor  in  tho  sky, 


Thij>,  white,  and  very  high,"  ' 

A  great  proportion  of  Michigan  is  covered  with  white-oak 
openings.  Standing  on  a  gentle  hill,  the  eye  wanders  away 
for  miles  over  an  undulating  surface,  obstructed  only  by  the 
trunks  of  lofty  trees, — above  you  a  green  canopy,  and  beneath, 
a  carpet  of  velvet  grass,  sprinkled  with  flowers  of  every  hue 
apd  form. 

The  prairies  are  another  interesting  feature  of  Michigan 
scenery.  They  meet  the  traveller  at  every  point,  and  of  many 
sizes,  seeming  often  like  so  many  lakes,  being  often  studded 
with  wooded  islands,  and  surrounded  by  shores  of  forests. 
Their  soil  is  a  deep  black  sand.  Gn^s  is  their  natural  produc- 
tion, although  corn,  oats,  and  potatoes  flourish  upon  them. 
Never  can  I  forget  the  first  time  I  entered  White  Pigeon 
Prairie.  Sleeping  beneath  the  shadows  of  sunset,  as  it  was, 
the  effect  upon  me  was  like  that  which  is  felt  on  first  beholding 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIQAK. 


185 


the  ocean, — overpowering  awe.     All  that  the  poet  has  said 
about  thes-s  gardens  of  the  desert,  is  true. 

Burr  Oak  Plains.  The  only  difference  between  these  anl 
the  oak  openings,  is  the  character  of  the  trees  and  the  cven- 
nes?  of  their  surface.  The  soil  is  a  mixture  of  sand  and  black 
loam.  They  have  the  appearance  of  cultivated  orcliards,  or 
English  parks ;  and,  on  places  where  the  foot  of  the  whit© 
man  has  never  trod,  a  carriage  and  four  could  easily  pass 
through.     They  produce  both  wheat  and  corn. 

The  wet  prairies  have  the  appearance  of  submerged  land. 
In  them  the  grass  is  often  six  or  seven  feet  high.  They  are 
the  resort  of  water-fowl,  muskrats,  and  otter. 

But  the  best  and  most  fertile  soil  in  Michigan  is  that  desig- 
nated by  the  title  of  timbered  land.  It  costs  more  to  prepare 
it  for  the  plough,  but  when  once  the  soil  is  sown  it  yields  a 
hundred-fold.  And  with  regard  to  their  beauty  anu  magnifi- 
cence, the  innumerable  forests  of  this  State  are  not  surpassed 
by  any  in  the  world,  whether  we  consider  the  variety  or 
grandeur  of  their  productions. 

A  friend  of  mine,  now  residing  in  >(restern  Michigan,  and 
who  once  spent  several  years  in  Europe,  thus  writes  respecting 
this  region : 

*'  0,  such  trees  as  wo  have  here  !  Magnificent,  tall,  large- 
leafed,  umbrageous.  Vallombrosa,  the  far-famed  Vallombrosa 
of  Tuscany,  is  nothing  to  the  thousand  Vallombrosas  here !  A 
fig  for  your  Italian  scenery !  This  is  the  country  where  nature 
reigns  in  her  virgin  beauty ;  where  trees  grow,  where  corn 
grows ;  where  men  grow  better  than  they  do  any  where  else 
in  the  world.  This  is  tho  land  to  study  nature  in  all  her  luxu- 
riant charms,  under  glorious  green  branches,  among  singing 
birds  and  laughing  strcms  ;  this  is  the  land  to  hear  the  cooing 
of.  the  turtle-dove,  in  far,  deep,  cool,  sylvan  bowers ;  to  feel 
your  soul  expand  under  the  mighty  influences  of  nature  in  her 
primitive  beauty  and  strength." 

Tho  principal  inland  rivers  of  Michigan  are,  the  Grand  River, 
the  Kalamazoo,  the  St.  Joseph,  the  Saginaw,  and  the  Raisin. 
The  first  three  empty  into  Lake  Michigan,  and  are  about 


m 

WB 

'!-;iSB 

m 

%A> 

m 

it  I  ^' '  i 


136 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIOAN. 


lei  ''$  d 

I  ili  '  "fiiSitiC?''' 

I  'ft  ,*>"*"'   ".rr^ 


lii\^ 


seventy  miles  apart.  Their  averajie  length  ih  near  two  hun- 
drel  and  fifty  miles,  and  they  arc  about  thirty  or  forty  rods  in 
width.  At  present,  they  are  navigfilii'  half  tlicir  (et:';.;th  for 
amali  Bteamboats  and  batfeaux.  Their  b>'d  is  of  liv.i,stone, 
covered  with  pebbles.  I  was  a  paiisengev  on  board  th-:  .  ^atilda 
Barney,  on  her  firpj.,  trip, — tl:e  first  <feamer  that  ever  ascended 
the  St.  Jiiieph,  wiiicb  I  confuJor  a  most  perfectly  boauiiful 
stream .  I  remember  well  the  many  flocks  of  wild  tiirkr'ys  and 
herds  of  deer,  that  the  "irun  hovrie"  frightexicd  in  his  Tyinding 
career.  TLo  Indian  canci  is  now  giving  Avay  to  the  more 
costly  but  loss  beautiful  row-bo;' t,  and  tliose  a;. -rs  avo  becoming 
deeper  am)  deeper  e  .'ery  d&y.  Instead  of  the  howl  of  the  wolf, 
the  i-ovigd  of  husbandmen  now  echo  through  their  vales,  where 
may  bo  found  many  comfortable  dwellings. 

The  Saginaw  runs  towards  the  north  and  empties  into  Lake 
Huron, — that  same  Huron  which  has  been  celebrated  in  song 
by  the  young  poet,  Louis  L.  Nclile.  This  river  is  navigable  for 
sixty  miles.  The  river  Raisin  h  a  winding  stream,  emptying 
into  Lake  Erie,  called  so  from  the  (luantity  of  grapes  that  cluster 
on  its  banks.  Its  Indian  name  is  Nummu-sepee,  signifying 
River  of  Sturgeons.  Sweet  river !  whose  murmurs  have  so  often 
been  my  lullaby,  mayest  thou  continue  in  thy  beauty  forever. 

Notwithstanding  the  comparative  newness  of  Michigan,  its 
general  aspect  is  ancient.  The  ruin  of  many  an  old  fort  may 
be  discovered  on  its  borders,  reminding  the  beholder  of  wrong 
and  outrage,  blood  and  strife.  This  was  once  the  home  of 
noble  but  oppressed  nations.  Here  lived  and  loved  the  Algon- 
quin and  Shawnese  Indians ;  the  names  of  whose  warrior 
chiefs, — POntiac  the  proud,  and  Tecumseh  the  brave, — will 
long  be  treasured  in  history.  I  have  stood  upon  their  graves, 
which  are  marked  only  by  a  blighted  tree  and  an  unhewn  stone, 
and  have  mused  thoughtfully  as  I  remembered  their  deeds.  But 
they  are  gone,  like  the  lightning  of  a  summer  day ! 

It  is  a  traditionary  land.  For  we  are  told  that  the  Indian 
hunters  of  old  saw  fairies  and  genii  floating  over  its  lakes  and 
streams,  dancing  through  its  lonely  forests.  In  these  did  they 
believe,  and  to  please  them  was  their  religion. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIQAN. 


187 


The  historian*  of  this  State  thus  writes,  in  alluding  to  the 
olden  times :  "  The  streams  rolled  their  liquid  silver  to  the 
lake,  broken  only  by  the  fish  that  flashed  in  their  current,  or 
the  swan  that  floated  upon  their  surface.  Vegetation  flourished 
alone.  Roses  bloomed  and  died,  only  to  be  trampled  by  the 
deer  or  savage ;  ar  ^  strawberries  studded  the  ground  like 
rubies,  where  the  green  and  sunny  hillsides  reposed  amid  the 
silence,  like  sleeping  infants,  in  the  lap  "of  the  forest.  The 
rattlesnake  glided  undisturbed  through  its  prairies ;  and  the 
fog  which  hung  in  clouds  over  its  stagnant  marshes  spread  no 
pestilence.  The  panther,  the  fox,  the  deer,  the  wolf,  and  bedr, 
roamed  fearless  through  the  more  remote  parts  of  the  domain, 
for  there  were  none  to  dispute  with  them  their  inheritance. 
But  clouds  thickened.  In  the  darkness  of  midnight,  and  silence 
of  the  wilderness,  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  were  forged 
fc  their  work  of  death.  Speeches  Avcre  made  by  the  savages 
u;.der  the  voiceless  stars,  which  we  o  heai-d  by  none  save  God 
and  their  allies ;  and  the  war-song  echoed  from  the  banks  of 
lakes  where  had  never  been  heard  the  footsteps  of  civilized 
man." 

Then  followed  the  horrors  of  war ;  then  and  there  were 
enacted  the  triumphs  of  revenge.  But  those  sounds  have  died 
away;  traced  only  on  the  page  of  history,  those  deeds.  The 
voice  of  rural  labor,  the  clink  of  the  hammer,  and  the  sound  of 
Sabbath-bells  now  echo  in  those  forests  and  vales.  The  plough 
is  making  deep  furrows  in  its  soil,  and  the  sound  of  the  anvil 
is  in  every  part.  A  well-endowed  University^  and  seminaries 
of  learning  are  there.  Railroads  and  canals,  like  veins  of 
health,  are  gliding  to  its  noble  heart.  The  red  man,  in  his 
original  grandeur  and  state  of  nature,  has  passed  away  from 
its  most  fertile  borders ;  and  his  bitterest  enemy,  the  pale  face, 
is  master  of  his  possessions. 

The  French  were  the  first  who  settled  in_  Michigan,  and  at 
as  early  a  date  as  1G20,  and  for  many  years,  they  and  the 
Indians,  were  the  solo  inhabitants.  Here  it  was  that  the  far 
famed  Jesuit  missionaries  first  pitched  their  tents  in  (Avhat  is 

*  James  H.  Lanmau,  Esq.,  uncle  to  the  Author. 


'Tm 

m 

^^H 

s*^ 

fm 

r'^jN,;!)* 

T*aS 


;•;.  •  u 


■•-;;■?;.  J«? 


fii.'^'f''^ 


in,/'  ■  -lr*t 


I      ,        *V[:  Si 


r's 


'^i: 


188 


RECOLLECTIOKS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


now)  the  United  States.  Now,  people  out  of  every  civilized 
nation  dwell  within  its  borders.  Detroit,  on  the  superb  river 
of  that  name,  and  Frenchtown,  on  the  river  Raisin,  were  both 
founded  by  the  French.  The  former  of  these  is  a  city,  a 
flourishing  city,  of  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants,  where  are  to 
be  found  all  the  elegances  and  luxury  of  the  most  polite  society. 
Its  principal  street  would  be  an  ornament  in  any  city ;  its  ele- 
vation is  some  fifty  feet  above  the  wator,  and  from  its  docks, 
the  eye  wanders  over  a  scene  not  unlike  that  visible  from  the 
North  River  side  of  the  Empire  city.  Like  most  cities,  it  ap- 
pears to  the  beat  advantage  in  winter.  Then  it  is  that  you 
may  often  witness  the  beautiful  Detroit  River  frozen  like  mar- 
ble, and  on  its  surface  hundreds  of  sleighs  and  skaters  gliding 
in  every  direction ;  while  a  chor»is  of  bells  comes  faintly  and 
sweetly  to  your  ear.  Monroe,  is  the  modern  name  for  French- 
town.  It  is  situated  about  two  miles  from  Lake  Erie,  and  is 
also  a  flourishing  town,  containing  some  four  thousand  inhabit- 
ants, a  goodly  portion  of  whom  are  the  descendants  of  the  early 
settlers.  Detroit  and  Monroe,  are  two  of  the  best  wheat 
markets  in  the  western  country.  Ann-Arbor  on  the  Huron  is 
the  New  Haven  of  Michigan,  and  possesses  many  attractions 
in  the  way  of  intelligent  people,  picturesque  scenery,  and  hand- 
some buildings.  Nilcs,  on  the  St.  Joseph,  is  a  most  diflicult 
place  to  pass  through,  for  the  trAve)!or  always  feels  an  irresiatible 
impulse  to  remain  there  for  ever, — it  is  so  charmingly  situated, 
on  such  a  charming  stream,  and  inhabited  by  such  charming  peo- 
ple. But  I  might  sing  this  song  under  the  head  of  Kalamazoo, 
Ypsilanti,  Tecumseh,  Adrian,  Fontiac,  Grand  Rapids,  Jackson, 
Battle  Creek,,  and  twenty  other  thriving  villages,  which  are  all 
surrounded  by  a  fine  agricultural  country.  J  cannot  now  dwell 
upon  such  themes.  Numma-sepee  is  ringing  in  my  ear,  and 
my  thoughts  are  with  my  body,  on  the  river,  and  in  the  village, 
where  I  was  born.  Here,  I  am,  after  an  absence  of  many 
years,  a  visitor,  and  to  half  the  people  a  stranger,  on  the  very 
soil  where  I  spent  my  wild  and  happy  boyhood.  I  will  not 
touch  upon  the  improvements  that  meet  me  at  every  turn,  nor 
upon  the  troops  of  friends  that  surround  me ;  my  heart  is  with 


RBCOLLEOTIONS  OF  MICUIOAM. 


189 


■1  ■  '•'  i)H^'< 


the  village  of  other  days,  not  with  thd  business  city  of  the  pre- 
sent time ;  and  as  to  my  friends,  I  thank  them  for  their  kind- 
ness, but  they  are  not  of  my  kindred  ;  they  arc  changed,  and  I 
oan  only  look  upon  them  as  strangers,  Reader,  as  you  love  to 
remember  the  sunny  days  of  your  own  life,  I  invite  you  to  listen 
to  niy  words,  as  I  attempt  to  summon  from  the  past  an  array 
of  my  most  dearly  cherished  recollections. 

Judging  from  the  many  accounts  I  have  heard,  the  spot  now 
occupied  by  Monroe  must  have  been,  before  the  last  Avar,  one 
of  the  most  delightful  nooks  in  the  wide  world.  Its  original 
name,  as  before  stated,  was  Frenchtown,  and  its  only  inhabit- 
ants were  French,  who  had  emigrated  thither  from  Franco  by 
the  way  of  Canada.  The  families  did  not  number  more  than 
about  fifty,  and  the  names  of  the  most  conspicuous  were 
Navarre,  Duval,  Beaubien,  Bourdeaux,  Couture,  Nadeau,  Ban- 
nac,  Cicot,  Campau,  Jobien,  Godfrey,  Lassellc,  Corsenau,  La- 
badee,  Durocher,  •  Robert,  Lacroix,  Dausette,  Lorangor,  San- 
comb,  and  Fourniet.  They  inhabited  what  might  be  called  an 
oasis  in  the  wilderness.  Their  farms  all  Iny  directly  upon  either 
side  of  the  river,  and  though  principally  devoted  to  agricultural* 
pursuits,  they  were  content  with  but  a  few  acres  of  cleared  land, 
and  beyond  these,  on  either  hand,  stood  the  mighty  forests  in 
their  original  solitude  and  luxuriance.  Along  their  doors  glided 
the  ever-murmuring  Raisin,  wt  ose  fountain-head  was  theo  among 
the  things  unknown,  and  its  waters  mingled  with  those  of  Eric, 
without  being  disturbed  by  the  I^eel  of  any  steamboat  or  white- 
winged  vessel.  Comfort  and  beauty  characterized  their  dwell- 
ings, and  around  them  grew  in  great  abundance  domestic  trees, 
that  yielded  the  most  delicious  fruits.  In  their  midst  stood  a 
little  chapel,  overgrown  with  iyy  and  surmounted  by  a  cross, 
where  the  Jesuit  missionaries  or  Catholic  priests  performed 
their  religious  duties.  The  soft-toned  bell  that  summoned  them 
to  worship,  was  not  without  its  echoes,  but  they  dwelt  far  away 
upon  the  sleeping  lake  or  in  the  bosom  of  the  surrounding  wil- 
derness. Here  the  tumult  of  the  great  human  world  was  never 
heard,  and  money  and  fame  were  not  the  chief  desire  of  the 
secluded  husbandman,  for  he  was  at  ease  in  his  possessions. 


''I'^BI 

SMM 

i^m 

mm 

^1 

K 

140 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIOAN. 


WSttJ; 


Indians,  the  smoke  of  whoso  wigwnms  ascended  to  heaven  on 
every  side,  were  the  only  people  with  whom  the  early  settlers 
had  intercourse ;  from  them  they  obtained  valuahlo  furs,  by 
barter,  which  they  sent  to  Montreal,  receiving  in  exchange  the 
necessaries  and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life.  They  maintained 
the  habits  which  were  brought  from  the  provinces  whence  they 
emigrated.  The  gentleman  preserved  the  garb  of  the  age  of 
Louis  XIV.,  while  the  peasant  wore  a  long  surtout,  sash,  red 
cap,  and  deer-skin  moccasins.  Their  knowledge  of  agriculture 
was  very  limited,  and  the  policy  of  the  fur  trade  was  calculated 
to  keep  down  the  spirit  of  improvement  in  that  respect.  Of 
corn  and  wheat  they  were  anxious  only  to  raise  enough  to  last 
them  during  the  year.  A  surplus  of  anything  but  furs  they 
did  not  desire,  and  never  possessed.  Their  grain  was  ground 
in  windmills,  whose  picturesque  features  added  to  the  poetry  of 
the  scenery.  Their  amusements  were  confined  to  the  sound  of 
the  violin,  at  their  unaffected  assemblies. 

The  forest  afforded  them  an  abundance  of  game,  which  con- 
stantly led  them  to  the  hunt,  and  their  beautiful  stream 
abounded  in  fish,  which  they  captured  with  the  net,  the  hook, 
and  the  spear.  A  dreamy  summer  atmosphere  seems  to  rest 
upon  this  region,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  the  olden  times. 
There  was  poetry  in  everything  which  met  the  eye :  in  the 
priest,  Mitli  cowl  and  satin  vestments,  kneeling  before  a  wooden 
cross,  on  Ms  way  to  the  place  of  prayer;  in  the  peasant, as  he 
performed  his  rural  labors,  attended  by  his  wife  and  playful 
children ;  in  the  rude  Indians,  with  fantastic  costumes,  who 
were  wont  to  play  their  uncouth  games  on  the  green-sward,  or 
perform  their  dexterous  feats  in  the  bark  canoe ;  in  the  sky, 
which  Smiled  perpetually  upon  the  virgin  wilderness ;  and  in 
that  wilderness,  whose  peculiar  features  verily  blossomed  as  the 
unplucked  rose.  And  there  was  poetry  in  all  that  fell  upon 
the  ear :  in  the  lowing  of  the  cattle  and  the  tinkling  of  their 
bells ;  in  the  gentle  flowing  waters,  and  the  sound  of  the  sum- 
mer wind,  as  it  sported  with  the  forest  trees,  and  wandered 
away,  laden  with  the  perfume  of  nameless  flowers ;  in  the  sing- 
ing of  unnumbered  birds,  which  ascended  to  the  skies  in  a  per- 


'..'  t^'^s 


m 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


141 


petual  anthem ;  and  in  th^  loud  clear  laugh  of  French  nnd 
Indian  children,  as  they  mingled  together  in  their  simple  games. 
But  those  patriarchal  days  are  for  ever  departed !  In  another 
part  of  the  country  Tecuraseh  and  Pontiac  were  beginning  to 
figure  in  successive  battles  against  the  United  Stj^ites,  and  their 
hostile  spirit  soon  manifested  itself  upon  our  frontier.  The 
Indians  upon  this  river  became  the  enemies  of  the  settlers, 
which  turned  out  to  be  the  prelude  to  a  storm  of  war  that  scat- 
tered death  and  desolation  along  its  path.  But  many  years 
have  fled  since  then,  and  the  blessings  of  peace  and  prosperity 
are  resting  upon  our  country. 

The  poor  Indians  have  almost  withered  from  the  land,  and 
those  French  inhabitants,  like  all  things  earthly,  are  on  their 
way  to  the  land  of  forgctfulncss.  Another  race  of  men  suc- 
ceeded here,  and  can  be  numbered  by  thousands ;  and  where 
once  extended  the  dominion  of  the  wilderness,  a  business  city 
now  looks  down  upon  the  river,  which  river  has  become  an 
adopted  servant  of  commerce. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  here  quoting  the  following  passage 
from  Charlevoix,  descriptive  of  the  scenery  as  it  existed  when 
he  passed  through  this  region  in  seventeen  hundred  and  twenty- 
one: 

"  The  first  of  June,  being  the  day  of  Pentecost,  after  having 
sailed  up  a  beautiful  river  (the  Raisin)  for  the  space  of  an  hour, 
which  has  its  rise,  as  they  say,  at  a  great  distance,  and  runs 
betwixt  two  fine  meadows,  wo  passed  over  a  carrying  place  of 
about  sixty  paces  in  breadth,  in  order  to  avoid  turnijig  round  a 
point  which  is  called  Long  Pointe.  It  is  a  very  ?andy  spot  of 
ground,  and  naturally  bears  a  great  quantity  of  vines.  The 
•following  days  I  saw  nothing  remarkable,  but  coasted  along  a 
charming  country^  hid  at  times  by  disagreeable  prospects, 
which,  however,  are  of  no  great  extent.  Wherever  I  went 
ashore,  I  was  enchanted  by  the  beauty  and  variety  of  a  land- 
scape, terminated  by  the  noblest  forests  in  the  whole  world. 
Add  to  this,  that  every  part  of  it  swarms  with  waterfowl.  I 
cannot  say  whether  the  woods  afibrd  game  in  equal  profusion. 
Were  we  all  to  sail,  as  I  there  did,  with  a  serene  sky,  in  a  most 


^ 


li«- 


'W^- 


142 


BBCOLLEOTIONS  OF  MICDIOAN. 


i^m^i 


••■^^ 


|M«I« 


I'll  ■  .•  '-^^j^'ii  ■..:«■ 


chorming  climate,  and  in  vrntcr  as  clear  08  that  of  the  purest 
fountain  ;  were  we  sure  of  finding  everywhere  as  secure  and 
agreeable  places  to  puss  the  night  in  ;  where  wo  might  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  hunting  at  a  small  expense,  breathe  at  our 
case  of  the  purest  air,  and  enjoy  the  prospect  of  the  finest  of 
countries;  we  might  be  tempted  to  travel  to  the  end  of  our 
days.  How  many  oaks  represented  to  me  that  of  Mararo! 
How  many  fountains  put  me  in  mind  of  that  of  Jacob !  Each 
day  a  new  situation,  chosen  at  pleasure,  a  neat  and  commo- 
dious house  built  and  furnished  with  all  necessaries  in  less  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  floored  with  a  pavement  of  flowers, 
continually  springing  up  on  a  carpet  of  the  most  beautiful 
green  ; — on  all  sides  simple  and  natural  beauties,  unadulterated 
and  inimitable  by  art." 

In  this  region  I  spent  my  wild  and  wayward  boyhood.  In 
the  prime  of  summer  I  have  watched  for  pigeons  on  the  margin 
of  the  forest  springs,  or  waded  the  streams  after  the  sweet 
crawfish ;  in  the  strangely  beautiful  autumn  and  Indian  sum- 
mer I  have  captured  the  squirrel  and  partridge ;  and  in  the 
winter  the  turkey  and  the  deer.  Reader !  have  you  ever,  while 
roaming  in  tho  woods  bordering  a  prairie,  startled  from  his 
heathery  couch  a  noble  buck,  and  seen  him  dart  from  you, 
"  swift  as  an  arrow  from  a  shivering  bow !"  Was  it  not  a  sight 
worthy  of  a  purer  world  than  ours  ?  Did  you  not  hail  him 
"  king  of  the  beautiful  and  fleet  ?" 

There'  is  one  hunting  incident  which  I  met  with  when  about 
fourteen  years  of  age,  that  I  can  never  forget.  I  had  entered 
upon  a  cow-path,  and  as  it  led  through  so  many  and  such  beau- 
tiful places,  I  forgot  myself  and  wandered  on  until  tho  shadows 
of  evening  warned  me  of  my  situation.  Great  oaks  and  hicko-' 
ries,  and  walnut  trees  were  with  me  wherev.cr  I  went.  They 
cast  a  spell  upon  me  like  that  which  is  wrought  by  the  old  of 
other  days.  The  black  night  came  at  last,  and  there  I  was, 
alone,  and  lost  in  that  silent  wilderness.  Onward  still  did  I 
continue,  and  even  in  my  great  fear  was  at  times  startled  by 
the  flapping  of  an  owlet's  wing  or  the  howl  of  a  wolf.  The 
stars  were  above,  shining  in  their  brightness,  but  invisible  to 


0m 


RBCOLLBOTIOMS  OF  llICIilOAN. 


148 


mo,  80  closely  woven  \fero  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Faintly  glim- 
mering in  the  distiince,  I  saw  a  firelight,  and  on  coming  near, 
found  a  party  of  Indians  encamped.  My  breast,  panted  with 
exccHsive  fear,  and  yet  I  could  not  speak— could  hardly  breathe, 
und  still  my  mind  was  free  and  active.  I  stood  and  listened 
to  the  faint  sound  of  a  distant  waterfall.  Would  that  I  had 
power  to  express  the  emotions  that  came  like  a  flood  pouring 
into  my  soul.  Covered  by  a  blanket,  and  pillowed  by  a  mo- 
cuck  of  sugar,  each  Indian  was  asleep  upon  his  rush-mat.  Pa- 
rents, children,  and  friends,  promiscuously  disposed,  though  all 
of  them  with  their  feet  turned  towards  the  expiring  embers. 
The  dogs,  too,  looking  ferocious  and  cunning  as  wolves,  were 
all  sound  asleep.  I  stole  softly  into  the  midst  of  the  wild  com- 
pany, and  covering  myself  with  an  odd  blanket,  strange  to  say, 
I  slumbered.  When  morning  was  come,  and  the  Indians  dis- 
covered a  pale-faced  boy  among  them,  their  astonishment  can 
be  more  easily  conceived  than  described.  I  at  length  informed 
them  by  signs  that  I  was  lost,  and  that  my  home  was  in  the 
village  of  Monroe.  I  partook  with  them  of  a  hearty  br''  .fast, 
composed  of  venison,  hominy,  and  water,  and  ere  the  sun  had 
mounted  high,  was  on  my  way  homeward,  with  an  Indian  for 
my  guide.  As  we  parted  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  I 
offered  to  pay  him  for  his  trouble,  but  he  declined  receiving 
anything.  I  turned  around,  and  the  thick  forest  shielded  him 
from  my  sight.  Of  course  my  friends  were  much  concerned  at 
my  absence,  and  the  majority  of  them  insisted  upon  my  having 
been  drowned.  For  one  whole  week  after  this  adventure,  I  was 
compelled  to  stay  at  home ;  but  after  that,  it  was  forgotten, 
and  I  was  in  the  forests  again. 

But  my  heart-song  of  other  days  is  just  beginning,  and  I 
cannot  yet  drop  my  pen.  My  father's  residence  was  upon  one 
of  the  old  French  farms,  that  were  once  so  famous  for  their 
Arcadian  beauty.  The  hand  of  improvement  has  despoiled 
them  of  their  original  glory,  and  the  strange,  gaudy  scenes  that 
I  now  behold,  only  tend  to  oppress  my  spirit  with  gloom.  The 
city  dwellings  around  me  I  cannot  see,  for  my  mind  is  upon 
the  village  of  my  birth.     The  farm  alluded  to  above,  was  about 


f' 


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t^ 


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144 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


half  a  mile  in  'width,  and  extended  back  to  the  distance  of 
nearly  two  miles.  Leaving  the  river  and  going  back,  you  first 
pass  through  ^n  orchard  containing  four  or  five  hundred  trees. 
Here  a  row  of  splendid  pear-trees,  and  there  a  regiment  of  old 
black  apple-trees,  staggering  under  their  weight  of  fruit.  En- 
tering a  little  enclosure  behind  a  barn,  you  might  see  fifty  small 
light-green  trees,  with  an  innumerable  number  of  rosy-cheeked 
peaches  under  their  leaves.  And  now  we  pass  the  great  cider- 
press,  where  I  was  Avont  to  imbibe  the  rich  American  wine 
through  an  oaten  str-'w.  A  little  further  on,  we  come  to  a 
green  pasture,  where  there  are  cows,  oxen,  sheep  and  horses 
grazing ;  on  »vard  still,  and  a  wheat-field,  yellow  as  gold,  r.ow- 
ing  before  the  breeze.  Then  our  path  lies  across  a  pleasant 
meadow,  watered  by  a  sparkling  stream  ;  and  after  a  brief  Avalk 
we  find  ourselves  in  the  foresi;,  dark  and  gloomy.  And  such 
toas  the  spot  whore  I  spent  the  morning  of  my  days.  Is  it 
straniii;, ,  then,  that  a  deep  and  holy  love  for  nature  should  be 
rooted  in  my  heart? 

That  description  reminds  me  of  another  hunting  expedition, 
of  which  I  would  merely  give  an  outline.  It  is  early  morning, 
and  the  latter  part  of  spring.  Breakfast,  is  ended.  My  cap 
and  buckskin  shirt  are  on,  the  latter  gathered  round  my  waist 
by  a  scarlet  worsted  belt.  My  powder-horn  and  shot-pouch 
are  filled  with  the  nicest  kind  of  ammunition,  and  in  my  hand 
is  my  valued  little  gun,  (bought  expressly  for  myself,)  polished 
bright  as  a  sunbeam.  I  have  kissed  the  baby,  and  am  now  on 
my  winding  y  ay.  At  the  mouth  of  the  river,  I  borrow  a  canoe 
of  some  old  Frenchman  who  resides  there.  If  I  w;ere,to  offer 
him  pay  he  would  not  accept  it ;  for  the  interesting  reason  that 
he  "know:  my  father."  All  the  day  long  have  I  been  hunt- 
ing, and  reveling  in  a  dream-land  of  my  own.  The  sun  is  in 
the  west,  and  I  am  hungry.  I  have  paddled  around  many  a 
green  and  lovely  island,  and  explored  many  a  bayou  and  marsh, 
and  outlets  of  creeks ;  frightening  from  her  lonely  nest  many  a 
wild-duck  and  her  brood.  My  shot-pouch  is  now  empty,  al- 
though the  bottom  of  my  canoe  u  covered  with  game.  There 
are  five  canvas-backs,  three  teals,  three  plovers,  two  snipes, 


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141 


■;>'  .i«,*S«;aaAl*. 


Mjaclc  to  thfc  kii«i..-.    ■ 
ami  ^'.;".'-iC  I'.-.fk.  yctj'      . 

■  ftr-t^»M>s,   till!  ^'i«^•^•  'i  ■  it 

_■■■    >    \N'      V  ■' '   t'O  ;jahH«e   *l:if   ri«')   a\  uv«;iii*fi H 
i  .' ^'i-  «u  (>at»>i   .•(,,.,-,     A   liu!-   fui-t*n-'r  on,  ."p  '*i>i!u,   • 
.  t ..-«.',  wborc   there  rre  im  •v-'   ox^n.  sLiof'p  and   i  ►• 
'•■'\■c^<■^  .   OTiViiJ-'i    5^1''i,  J..0       ^- ^i'!  lit-tiCi'l.  ycilovv  "i-    ;;tj)':,  " 
it)^  '.»>i<'r(.'  ih-  br*^"/''.       "     '^    ■■■;'  '-'^i    !■'     a':i^-s8  a  pi;'' • 

^>t'j;\«,  «.,fiT4  Ijv  ,i  .;  ;-„•  '   Piiiv.  .-(iVrr  a.  brief  V  . 

^v     h  '1  t^'.a     '*   '  i"     ■      iVsit  .    !    !im'  gloA^Oty.     Ami  ^ 

. ..  ■  ••        ii  <ft.4V:M       ^",   s  Aari't' 5v..«' 

■--.    :\     ■  A\-.'i»ix     ■'  -     ?•■  i-     -U;^ 

si   -     •»^-  i-     fch"!*  i'  '       '  ^va 

,;,,    ,,  ■    .        :.    ^\^■  ,;  ••  -  •  '  t'    '    f  .iH!U5"niliw».:   "mI  iji  w; 
iM  t'ly  vahtod  IHtlo  ;^uij.  .'-  i^'t-:' ■    -xjuf^M;'  f.«r  n  v.i.^lf.}  i-     - 
tiriglit  as  a  'nnbcji:  .      '  uavvi  kissed  tfw}  i  .:by,  iii.*  -u;  !i/>'- 
I'       ■  u>din«t  t< iiy.     At  rhc  riinyth  of  the  rheti",  i  'oflnow  a  c  • 

■  ,,•  I'M  Kitnchnjun  fth'-  '•■•  W  •  v,.a>e, ; 

f;;M.,:ytj   ^oijld  not  ac   .'|it  i. .   =  -   ,»4mgren«0J. 

(i<-  ->  knot*  ■  ;» ^f  :'^^thw."     Ml  v-'-  ^  ':    "«J!  f^'V'^**  i   -"  -v     "• 
feiT,  and  i:<>v('Un;t  ni  u  4wanv!  snf'  ui  my  own.     'V!ie  fiui: 

ki&   bve^L  and  J  am  Imngry.     I  httvc  padolc'l  iii'ouud  ini*- 
■I  '.^ vi  iy  island,  imd  explored  many  :i  l>a}  ou  nnd  nii;  :• 

iP  t .    ■  ■  >ts nf  ciooks ;  fri^4.tontt-.g  from  lu*.r  kmtely  neat  ma;.; 

■„  :  :,1  her  hr'miX.     v.-   A\c^ -p- ^w^-.  ■*  7K>w  «mpiy  ;<;• 

t!;-,.- .  .  {torn  of  tay  CfOJO'"  JH  covevfti  wtti:  gauM'.     Thfv. 

are  ^ive  ^'^rtWAS'baxjks,  three  te^ilH,  tbrco  |>lovere.  e%vo  snipr^ 


it  ■" 


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DUCK    SHOOTING    tN    MICHIGAN. 


one  wo 
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and  I 
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exclaim 
and  sev 
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ing  me 
the  spot 
That 
ducks  hi 
ther.    A 
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from  me 
once  mo 
Fishii 
When  tl 
from  th( 
Raisin,  . 
low  a  ce 
hand  an 
seven  fe 
/we,  I  n( 
my  spea 
ation  to 
It  must 
straddle 
ning.     ] 
he  woul 
back !" 
my  boyl: 
But  I  a 
many  lo 
I  mused 
perch,  a 
from  the 
1 


KECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


145 


one  wood-duck,  and  other  kinds  of  waterfo^'l.  The  canoe  is 
drawn  up  on  shore,  and  with  my  thanks  I  have  given  old  Ro- 
bert a  couple  of  ducks.  My  game  is  now  slung  upon  my  back, 
and  I  am  homeward  bound,  proud  as  a  young  king.  While 
passing  through  the  village,  (for  I  have  to  do  so,)  I  hear  a  voice 
exclaiming,  Lally !  Lally !  I  approach,  and  find  my  father 
and  several  other  gentlemen  seated  at  the  post-ofl5ce  door  talk- 
ing politics.  Each  one  in  turn  gives  me  a  word  of  praise,  call- 
ing me  "  quite  a  hunter."  I  pay  them  for  their  kindness  on 
the  spot,  by  the  donation  of  a  canvas-baek,  and  pass  on. 

That  evening  my  supper  is  a  rare  enjoyment,  for  some  of  the 
ducks  have  been  cooked  under  the  especial  charge  of  my  mo- 
ther. A  little  longer,  and  I  am  in  the  land  of  dreams.  Many, 
very  many  such  days  have  I  enjoyed,  but  now  they  are  far 
from  me.  Oh !  that  I  were  an  innocent,  laughing,  happy  boy 
once  more !     Come  back  !     Come  back  !  joys  of  my  youth  ! 

Fishing  is  another  a*t  in  which  I  was  considered  an  adept. 
When  the  first  warm  day  lured  the  sturgeon  -and  muskalounge 
from  their  deep  home  in  the  bosom  of  the  lake,  to  ascend  the 
Raisin,  I  was  always  among  the  first  on  the  large  platform  be- 
low a  certain  milldam,  (now  all  washed  away,)  with  spear  in 
hand  and  heart  to  conquer.  Many  a  noble  sturgeon,  six  and 
seven  feet  long,  have  I  seen  extended  on  the  shore.  As  for 
/we,  I  never  aimed  only  at  the  smaller  ones.  Once,  howevei*, 
my  spear  entered  the  back  of  a  "  whapper,"  and  my  determin- 
ation to  keep  hold  was  nearly  the  cause  of  my  being  drowned. 
It  must  have  been  a  thrilling,  yet  ridiculous  sight,  to  see  me  a- 
straddle  of  the  fellow,  and  passing  down  the  river  like  light- 
ning. I  think  if  Mr.  William  Shakspeare  had  been  present, 
he  would  have  exclaimed, — "  Lo,  a  mcr-man  on  a  sturgeon's 
back !"  If  I  could  enjoy  such  sport  now  with  the  feelings  of 
my  boyhood,  I  would  willingly  risk  such  a  ducking  every  day. 
But  I  am  now  a  struggler  amid  the  waves  of  life.  0,  how 
many  long  and  never-to-be-forgotten  Saturday  afternoons,  have 
I  mused  away  on  the  margin  of  my  native  stream.  How  many 
perch,  and  bass,  sun-fish,  and  pike,  and  pickerel,  have  I  brought 
from  their  pure  element  to  place  upon  my  father's  table !  But 
10 


^v 


1^/^ 

w 


if%N 


i^^'^^ 


146 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


those  days  are  forever  departed,  all  and  forever — gone  into 
their  graves,  bearing  vrith  them  all  my  dreams,  all  my  hopes 
and  fond  anticipations.  Desolate  indeed  does  it  make  my 
heart,  to  look  upon  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the 
home  of  my  boyhood.  Kind  words  do  indeed  fall  upon  my 
ear,  but  I  feel  myself  to  be  a  stranger  or  as  one  forgotten.  0, 
I  am 


"  A  homeless  wanderer  through  my  early  home ; 
Gone  childhood'i<  joj  s,  aud  not  a  joy  to  come  1" 


Dana. 


But  let  mc,  while  I  may,  recall  a  few  more  bright  visions 
from  the  past. 

Aye,  even  now  into  the  chambers  of  my  soul  are  entering 
ao  array  of  Avinter  pictures,  associated  with  the  times  of  the 
days  of  old. 

True  as  memory  itself,  by  everything  that  meets  the  eye  of 
my  fancy,  I  perceive  that  winter  has  «8serted  his  empire  over 
my  native  village.  Once  more  am  I  a  happy  boy,  and  plan- 
ning a  thousand  excursions  to  enjoy  the  merry  season.  The 
years,  between  the  present  and  that  happy  time,  are  vanished 
into  forgetfulness,  and  it  seemcth  to  mc  that  I  am  even  now 
panting  with  the  excitement  of  a  recent  battle  in  the  snow. 

There  has  been  a  heavy  fall  of  the  white  element,  and  while 
walking  along  one  of  tlio  streets  oi  the  village,  a  snow-ball  hits 
me  on  the  back,  whereupon  I  jump  into  an  attitude  of  defiance. 
Partly  hidden  by  a  neighboring  fence,  I  discover  a  group  of 
roguish  boys,  whom  I  immediately  favor  with  an  answer  to 
th^,;i'  salute.  Eight  is  the  number  of  ray  temporary  enemies, 
and  as  they  Ip'^p  the  fence  aud  come  into  full  view,  my  heart 
begins  to  quail,  and  I  feel  a  scampering  sensation  in  my  heels. 
Just  in  the  "nick of  time,"  however,  half  a  dozen  of  my  friends 
who  happen  along,  come  to  ray  relief,  when  a  couple  of  shouts 
ascend  to  heaven,  and  the  battle  commences.  Round,  harJ 
swiftly  thrown,  and  well-aimed,  are  the  balls  that  fly.  Already, 
from  many  a  window,  fair  aud  smiling  spectators  are  looking 
upon  us,  and  each  on»  of  us  fancies  himself  to  be  another  Ivan- 
hoe.     The  combat  deepens.    One  fellow  receives  a  ball  directly 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


;47 


in  the  ear,  and  away  he  reels,  "with  a  short,  uneasy  motion," 
and  another  has  received  one  in  his  belly,  probably  making  still 
flatte'  the  pancake?  that  are  there.  And  then,  as  a  stream  Oi" 
blood  issues  from  the  smeller  of  one,  and  the  eyes  of  another 
are  made  to  see  stars,  a  maddening  frenzy  siczcs  upon  the 
whole  gang — the  parties  clinch, — and  the  "rubbing"  scene  is 
in  its  prime,  with  its  struggles  and  sounds  of  suffering.  One 
poor  fellow  is  pitched  into  a  snow-drift,  heels  over  head,  while 
his  enemy  almost  smothers  him  with  hands-full  of  soft  snow, 
causing  his  writhing  countenance  to  glisten  with  a  crimson  hue ; 
another,  who.  has  been  yelling  at  a  tremendous  rate  over  a  tem- 
porary triumph,  is  suddenly  attacked  by  a  couple  of  our  pa'-ty. 
who  pelt  him  furiously,  until  he  cries  out  most  lustily — "  I  beg, 
I  bog,"  Avhen  he  is  permitted  to  retire  with  his  laurels.  One 
chap  receives  a  stinger  of  a  blow  between  his  peepers,  accom- 
panied by  an  oath,  whereupon  we  know  that  there  is  too  much 
passion  in  the  fray,  and  while  the  victims  enter  upon  a  regular 
fisticuff,  we  find  it  necessary  to  run  to  their  rescue  and  separate 
them.  Thasthe-general  battle  ceases.  After  coming  together, 
declaring  ourselves  good  friends,  an  1  talking  over  the  struggle, 
we  collect  our  scattered  caps,  mittens,  and  tippets,  and  quietly 
retire  to  our  respective  homes. 

Time  flies  on, — wo  have  had  a  protracted  rain,  the  streets 
liavo  been  muddy,  the  people  dull, — but  now  fair  weather  com- 
oth  out  of  the  north,  and  the  beautiful  river  Raisin  is  again 
sheeted  in  its  icy  mail.  For  a  week  past  g-eat  preparations 
liavc  been  made  by  some  two  dozen  boys  for  a  skating  excur- 
sion to  a  certain  light-house  on  Lake  Eric,  situated  ab©ut  ten 
miles  from  Monroe.  We  have  seen  that  our  skates  are  in  first- 
rate  order,  and  Tom  Brown  (an  ancient  negro  who  was  the 
chief  advisor  and  friend  of  every  Monroe  boy)  has  promised 
to  awaken  us  all,  and  usher  in  the  eventful  morning  by  a 
blast  from  his  old  tin  horn ;  so  that  when  bed-time  comes,  we 
liave  nothing  to  do  but  say  our  prayers  and  enjoy  a  refreshing 
sleep.  Strange,  that  I  should  remember  these  trifling  events 
so  distinctly  !  But  there  they  are,  deeply  and  forever  engraven 
on  the  tablet  of  my  memory,  together  with  thousands  of  others 


.•'I- 


w 


l^'^p 

l«lH8  4u'    '.'•'Wi!' 

'  :li^ilH^ 

^n 

immr 

fc**^ 

'|,^^P 

V 

'I^^S|^ 

^w^^l 

^'^^El 

148 


REOOLLBCTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


►  «-,  1'"-^  ^ 


■  •■''"rci- 


of  a  kindred  character.     Their  exalted  mission  is  to  cheer  my 
heart  amid  the  perplexities  of  the  world. 

It  is  the  break  of  day,  and  bitter  cold.  The  appointed  sig- 
nal hath  been  given  ; — the  various  dreams  of  many  a  happy 
youth  are  departed  ;  each  one  hath  partaken  of  a  hearty  break- 
fast, and  the  whole  party  are  now  assembled  upon  the  ice 
"  below  the  bridge."  Then  follows  the  bustle  of  preparation. 
While  some  are  tardy  in  buckling  on  their  skates,  others  slap 
their  hands  together  to  keep  them  warm,  while  some  of  the 
smartest  and  most  impatient  rogues  are  cutting  their  names,  or 
certain  fantastic  figures,  as  a  prelude  to  what  we  may  expect 
from  them  in  tlie  way  of  fine  skating.  Presently  we  are  drawn 
up  in  a  line  to  listen  to  the  parting  words  of  "  Snowball  Tom." 
At  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  a  long  and  loud  blast  issues 
from  the  old  tin  horn,  which  we  answer  by  a  laugh  and  a  louder 
shout,  and  like  a  band  of  unbroken  colts,  we  spring  to  the  race 
upon  the  icy  plain.  Away,  away,  away.  Long  and  regular 
are  the  sweeps  wo  take,  and  how  dolefully  does  the  poor  river 
groan  as  the  ice  cracks  from  shore  to  shore,  as  w€»flee  over  its 
surface  "  like  a  rushing  mighty  wind  !"  Keen,  and  piercingly 
cold  is  the  morning  breeze,  but  what  matter  ?  Is  not  the  blood 
of  health  and  happy  boyhood  coursing  through  our  veins  ? 
Now  we  glide  along  the  shore,  frightening  a  lot  of  cattle  driven 
to  the  river  by  a  boy,  or  the  horses  of  some  farmer  who  is  giv- 
ing them  their  morning  drink ;  now  we  pass  the  picturesque 
abodes  of  the  Canadian  peasantry,  partly  hidden  by  venerable 
trees,  though  now  stripped  of  their  leafy  honors ;  now  we  give 
chase  to  a  surprised  dog  returning  from  the  midnight  assassi- 
nation of  some  helpless  sheep ;  n-jw  we  pass  the  last  vestige  of 
humanity  upon  the  river,  which  is  the  log  cabin  of  an  old 
French  fisherman  and  hunter ;  and  now  we  pass  a  group  of 
little  islands  with  a  thick  coating  of  sncw  upon  their  bosoms, 
and  their  ten  thousand  beautiful  bushes  and  trees  whispering 
to  the  air  of  the  surrounding  silence.  Already  have  we  more 
than  measured  the  distance  of  two  leagues  outside  of  Pleasant 
Bay,  and  our  course  is  now  on  the  broad  bosom  of  Lake  Erie, 
with  an  unbroken  field  of  solid  ice  before  us  as  far  as  the  eye 


can  rea( 


,!?»     IH-   ,-^\ 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHiOAN. 


149 


can  reach.  Tho  frozen  pavement  along  which  our  skates  are 
ringing  ia  black  aa  the  element  beneath,  and  so  transparent, 
that  where  the  water  is  not  more  than  ten  or  twenty  foot  in 
depth,  we  can  distinctly  sec  sunken  logs,  clusters  of  slimy  rocks 
and  herds  of  various  kinda  of  fish,  balancing  themselves  in  sleep 
or  (lart'ng  about  their  domain  in  sport.  But  these  delicious 
pictures  are  for  some  other  time, — we  are  speeding  with  the 
breeae  and  cannot  tarry.     Away, — away, — away ! 

But  what  means  that  sudden  wheel  of  our  leader,  as  with  his 
voice  and  upraised  hands  he  summons  us  to  halt  ?     Half  a  mile 
on  our  lee,  and  about  the  same  distance  from  the  shore  he  has 
just  discovered  an  assembly  of  men,  with  their  horses   and 
sleighs  at  a  stand,  as  if  preparing  for  a  race.     Without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  wo  decMe  to  bo  "  on  hand,"  and  in  a  few 
minutes  are  cutting  up  our  capers  in  the  midst  of  a  hundred 
Canadians  who  are  about  to  enjoy  what  we  predicted.     Beauti- 
ful and  fantastic  oarriolles  are  here,  drawn  by  sleek  and  saucy- 
looking  Canadian   pacers,   and  occupied  by  hard-fisted   men 
enveloped  in  their  bufiiilo-robes,  whom  we  recognize  as  friends. 
Here  we  notice  one  Beaubien  with  his  pony  of  glossy  black, 
which  has  never  yet  been  beatcii,  and  are  told  that  tho  race  is 
to  be  between  him  and  an  entire  stranger  who  has  accepted  a 
recently  made  challenge.     To  the  stranger  we  turn,  and  find 
his  horse  to  be  a  beautiful  bay,  and  of  a  more  delicate  build 
than  tho  Canadian  champion.     The  race  is  to  be  two  miles  in 
length  and  the  amount  of  the  bet  five  hundred  dollars.     All 
things  being  ready,  tho  competitors  move  slowly  to  the  starting 
place  with  their  witnesses,  while  the  concourse  of  people  await 
in  breathless  anxiety  the  result  of  the  race.     Hark  !  hear  you 
not  the  clattering  of  hoofs,  resounding  far  over  the  plain,  as  if 
in  search  of  an  echo  ?     Aye,  and  with  wondrous  speed  they 
are  coming  !     How  exciting  is  the  scene  !     In  three  minutes 
more  tho  contest  will  be  ended.    See  ! — Beaubien  is  ahead,  and 
the  victory  undoubtedly  his  !     But  now  the  stranger  tosses  up 
his  cap,  and  as  it  falls,  the  flying  pacer  understands  the  signal 
— lie  increases  his  already  almost  matchless  speed,  he  passes 
tho  Frenchman  with  a  look  of  triumph  lii  his  eye, — one  minute 


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160 


RECOLLECTIONS  CI-  MICHIGAN. 


more, — and  the  unknown  is  triumphant.  Most  unexpected  is 
the  result.  The  pcopio  are  bewildered  and  perplexed,  but 
when  Beaubien  delivers  up  the  lost  money,  not  a  word  escapes 
him,  and  ho  seems  to  bo  broken-hearted.  His  darling  steed 
has  been  eclipsed,  the  swiftest  pacer  in  all  the  country  does  not 
belong  to  him,  and  he  is  miserable.  The  sport  ended,  and  not 
caring  for  the  jabbering  of  a  band  of  excited  Ficnchmen,  wo 
come  together  again,  and  continue  on  our  course. 

Another  hour  do  wo  while  away  along  the  lake  shore,  now 
pausing  to  get  a  little  breath,  and  now  gazing  with  curious  eyes 
into  the  gloomy  forest  (which  comes  to  the  very  water's  edge) 
as  we  glide  along.  At  twelve  o'clock  we  have  reached  the  de- 
sired haven,  our  feet  arc  gladly  released,  and  we  are  the  wel- 
come guests  of  mine  host  of  the  light-house.  By  some  the 
peculiar  features  of  the  lonely  place  are  examined,  wnile  others, 
who  have  an  eye  for  the  grand  in  nature,  ascend  to  the  top  of 
the  light-houso  for  a  view  of  the  frozen  lake — reposing  in  un- 
broken solitude.  The  curiosity  of  all  being  satisfied,  we  as- 
semble in  the  comfortable  parlor  of  our  entertainer,  and  await 
the  dinner-hour.  A  jolly  time  then  follows  ; — many  u  joke  is 
cracked,  and  many  a  twice-told  legend  of  the  wilderness  re- 
lated; a  sumptuous  dinner  is  enjoyed ;  the  evening  hours  ap- 
proaching, we  begin  to  think  of  home,  and  by  the  time"  the 
heaven^  are  flooded  with  the  light  of  the  moon  and  stars,  we 
have  taken  our  departure,  and  are  upon  our  skates  once  more. 
Without  meeting  with  an  accident,  elated  by  many  a  gay  song 
on  our  way,  and  with  our  thoughts  raodtly  bent  upon  the  "  spa- 
cious firmament  on  high,"  we  glide  over  the  frozen  wave,  and 
at  the  usual  hour  are  in  our  warm  beds,  anticipating  a  dream 
of  those  things,  for  which  our  several  hearts  are  panting. 

Hardly  a  week  has  elapsed  before  we  have  another  heavy 
fall  of  snow,  and  the  principal  topic  of  conversation  among  the 
young  people  of  the  village  is  a  sleigh-ride.  The  boys,  about 
this  time,  are  making  themselves  wonderfully  useful  in  their 
fathers'  stables,  taking  good  care  of  the  horses,  examining  the 
sleighs,  collecting  the  buffalo-robes  and  polishing  the  bells ; 
while  the  girls  are  busily  engaged  upon  their  hoods,  cloaks, 


RE0OLLB0TION8  OF  MIOOIQAN. 


161 


itioffs,  and  moccasins,  and  wondering  by  whom  they  will  be  in- 
vited. The  long-wishod-for  day  has  arrived.  Farewcll'a  Tavern, 
ten  miles  up  the  River  Riiisin,  is  our  place  of  destination.  The 
cheerful  sun  is  only  about  an  hour  Mgh,  when  there  is  heard  a 
merry  jingling  of  bells  in  the  villiiTO  ptreets.     Our  cavalcade 


sleighs,  and  one  sinfrlc- 
>mebody  and  the  Chief 

if  this  rhapsody, 
pirits,  and  it  is  as  much 


numbers  some  half  dozen  w 
seated  carriolle  occupied  I 
Marshal  of  the  expedition, - 
My  black  trotter  was  nevi 
as  I  can  do  to  hold  him  in,  ati  with  his  neck  beautifully  arched 
he  bears  upon  the  bit.  lie  seems  to  know  that  his  youthful 
master  has  but  one  dearer  friend  upon  earth,  who  is  the  "bonnie 
lassie"  at  his  side.  Many  and  tender  are  the  words  then  spoken, 
and  the  wide  world  before  our  youthful  fancies  is  the  home  only 
of  perpetual  pleasures.  Far,  very  far  from  our  minds  are  all 
the  stern  realities  of  life.  We  hear  the  flail  of  the  industrious 
farmer  in  his  barn,  but  do  not  dream  of  the  great  truth  that 
mankind  are  born  to  labor  and  grow  old  with  trouble.  We  look 
upon  a  poverty-stricken  and  forsaken  Indian,  witli  his  family 
trudging  across  the  snowy  landscape,  and  gratefully  reflect 
upon  the  comforts  of  our  own  homes,  and  sigh  for  the  miseries 
of  the  poor.  Youth  makes  us  forgetful  of  the  real  future,  and 
the  dawning  of  love  opens  our  hearts  to  every  tender  influence, 
and  we  resolve,  hereafter,  to  be  very  kind  to  the  unfortunate. 
The  shades  of  evening  arc  descending  upon  the  earth,  and  with 
thoughtfulness  we  gaze  upon  the  quiet  pictures  of  the  road,  the 
season,  and  the  hour.  We  pass  a  wooden  cross  with  its  cover- 
ing of  snow,  which  was  planted  by  Jesuit  Missionaries  a  cen- 
tury ago,  and  think  of  Him  whom  we  have  been  rightly  taught 
to  worship  and  adore.  Farmers  are  foddering  their  cattle,  boys 
are  carrying  in  huge  armsful  of  dry  hickory  for  a  roaring  fire, 
and  cheerful  lights  are  gleaming  from  the  windows  of  the  farm- 
houses as  we  pass  along.  Finally  the  comfortable  dwelling 
where  we  would  be  meets  our  gaze,  seeming  to  smile  upon  us, 
with  its  various  lighted  windows,  and-  clouds  of  smoke  ascend- 
ing heavenward,  when,  with  a  few  flourishes  of  whips,  and  a 
terrible  din  of  bells,  the  sleighing  party  comes  to  a  halt  before 
the  tavern  of  friend  Farewell. 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WnSTH.N.Y.  USIO 

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152 


BECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


The  upper  rooms  of  the  dwelling  are  all  ready  for  our  recep- 
tion, and  while  the  girls  are  ushered  into  them,  the  boys  are 
■  attending  to  the  comforts  of  their  faithful  horses.  In  due  time, 
after  we  have  arranged  the  preliminaries  for  a  supper,  we  join 
the  girls  again,  and  in  solid  body  make  our  appearance  in  the 
spacious  ball-room.  A  musician  is  already  there,  in  the  person 
of  an  ancient  negro,  who  tells  ^^  that  his  fiddle  is  in  prime 
order.  But  dancing  is  an  idea  of  which  we  had  not  dreamed, 
for  we  are  utterly  ignorant  of  the  polite  accomplishment.  But 
music  we  are  resolved  to  have,  and  doubt  not  but  it  will  greatly 
add  to  our  enjoyment  of  the  various  games  which  we  purpose 
to  play.  Now  have  the  happy  voices  of  the  party  risen  to  a 
noisy  height,  as  we  take  hold  of  hands  and  commence'  the  game 
of  Drop  the  Handkerchief,  while  many  a  race  around  the  slip- 
pery floor  is  run,  and  many  a  sweet  kiss  is  given  and  returned. 
Then  succeeds  the  play  of  Button,  wherein  the  forfeits  are  re- 
deemed by  making  "  wJeelbarrows,"  *' measuring  tape  and 
cutting  it  off,"  and  by  "  bowing  to  the  wittiest,  kneeling  to  the 
prettiest,  and  kissing  the  one  wo  love  best."  Then  the  stories 
of  the  Stage-Coach  have  their  turn,  which  create  a  tumult  of 
laughter.  After  which  we  have  Blindman's  Bnff,  and  one  poor 
creature  after  another  is  made  to  grope  about  the  room  in 
Egyptian  darkness.  Such  are  the  plays,  with  many  more  of 
like  character,  which  we  enjoy,  while  our  sable  friend  is 
straining  away  at  his  old  fiddle,  as  if  determined  to  be  heard 
above  the  surrounding  clamor  of  talking,  laughing,  and  singing 
voices. 

The  supper  hour  having  arrived,  a  general  adjournment  takes 
place,  when  the  unnumbered  good  things  of  the  table  are  ap- 
propriated to  their  legitimate  use.  Half  an  hour  is  then  allotted 
^  to  the  young  ladies  to  get  ready,  and  by  nine  o'clock  the  sleighs 
are  at  the  door,  and  after  a  delightful  ride  of  an  hour  in  the 
clear  moonlight,  we  are  at  our  village  homes,  and  the  memory 
of  our  sleigh-ride  commencing  its  existence. 

One,  two,  and  perhaps  three  weeks  have  I  been  confined  at 
school,  when  the  notion  pops  into  my  head  that  I  must  go  a- 
hunting,  for  my  sporting  friend,  Francis  Bannac  (a  French- 
man,) hu  told  me  that  game  is  now  quite  abundant.    My 


BBOOLLBOIIOKS  OF  MIOHIGAN. 


158 


father  has  granted  me  his  permission,  and  Bannac  tells  me 
that  I  maj  be  his  companion  on  a  tramp  of  nine  miles  to  the 
head-waters  of  Plum  Greek.  A  pack  of  wolves,  of  whose  de- 
predations we  have  heard,  are  th#  principal  game  we  have  in 
view.  Having  finished  the  usual  preliminaries  of  a  winter 
hunt,  and  arrayed  ourselves  accordingly,  we  seize  our  gnns^ 
whistle  to  our  grayhounds,  and  with  the  sun  midway  up  the 
heavens  start  upon  the  tramp.  A  walk  of  twenty  minutes 
brings  us  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  where  we  sti4ke  an  ancient 
Indian  trail  and  proceed  on  our  way.  A  gorgeous  landscape- 
panorama  is  that  through  which  we  are  passing,  and  ourselves^ 
I  ween,  the  most  appropriate  and  picturesque  figures  that  could 
be  introduced.  Foremost  is  the  tall  and  sinewy  person  of 
Bannac,  with  a  snugly-fitted  buckskin  garment  tightened  round 
his  waist  by  a  wampum  belt,  cowhide  moccasins  on  his  feet, 
coon  skin  cap  on  his  black  head,  pouch  and  powder-horn,  to^ 
getlier  with  knife  and  tomahawk  at  his  side,  and  in  his  right 
hand  a  heavy  rifle.  Next  to  him  trotteth  the  deponent,  who 
might  be  looked  upon  as  a  miniature  Bannac,  with  variations^ 
— while  a  little  in  our  rear  are  the  two  hounds  playing  with 
each  other,  or  standing  still  and  looking  among  the  trees  for 
game.  All  around  us  is  a  multitudinous  army  of  forest  soldiers, 
from  the  youthful  maple  or  ash,  to  the  rugged  and  storm* 
scathed  oak  or  bass-wood ;  and  marvellously  beautiful  to  my 
mind  is  the  tracery  of  their  numberless  brauches  against  the 
blue  sky,  though  my  friend  would  probibly  liken  those  very 
tree-tops  to  the  head  of  some  "loafer"  that  had  never  made 
use  of  a  comb.  The  earth  in  covered  with  a  thick  coating  of 
dead  leaves,  with  here  and  there  a  little  island  of  snow.  Now 
we  perceive  a  beautiful  elm  lodged  in  the  giant  branches  of  an 
old  walnut,  like  a  child  seeking  consolation  in  the  arms  of  its 
fttther ;  and  now  we  come  to  a  deformed  beech-tree,  prostrate 
upon  the  earth,  with  its  uncouth  roots  wasting  to  decay,  and 
the  idea  enters  my  mind  that  such  will  eventually  be  the  destiny 
of  all  Falsehood.  The  woods  in  the  irinter  are  indeed  deso* 
late.  The  green  leaves  are  no  longer  here  to  infuse  into  our 
hearts  ft  portion  of  their  happiness,  as  they  "  olap  their  hands 


pr 


154 


BECOLLBOTIONS  OF  MIOHIOAN. 


in  glee,"  and  the  joyous  birds  of  summer  arc  not  here  to  make 
melody  in  their  own  hearts,  as  well  as  oars.  True,  that  mosses 
of  varied  hue  and  texture  are  on  every  side,  and  in  their  love 
enveloping  stumps,  stones,  fl-unks,  and  branches,  yet  they  re- 
mind us  of  the  pall  and  shroud.  What  footsteps  do  wc  hear, 
and  why  do  the  hounds  start  so  suddenly  ?  We  have  frightened 
a  noble  buck  ;  but  a  moment  has  elapsed  and  he  is  beyond  our 
reach.  The  hounds,  however,  are  close  behind  him  already, 
and  the  three  fire  bounding  away  in  splendid  style,  illustrating 
to  perfection  the  poetry  of  motion.  We  fancy  that  the  race 
mil  be  a  short  one,  and  therefore  start  in  pursuit,  managing 
to  keep  in  sight  of  our  game.  Heavens !  what  a  leap  that  was 
over  those  fallen  trees  !  but  the  hounds  have  done  their  duty, 
and  the  c6urse  is  once  more  clear.  A  lot  of  ravens  far  up  in 
the  upper  air  seem  to  be  watching  our  movements,  as  if  hoping 
for  a  meal  of  venison, — and  a  gray  eagle  flies  screaming  across 
our  pat}i,  as  if  to  mock  us  for  being  without  wings.  Glossy 
black  squirrels  peep  out  of  their  holes  in  wonder  at  the  com- 
motion, and  a  flock  of  wild  turkeys  which  we  have  alarmed, 
are  running  from  us  in  great  confusion,  like  a  company  of 
militia  before  a  cavalcade  of  horsemen.  But  see !  the  buck 
has  turned  upon  his  pursuers,  and  while  they  are  battling  to- 
gether we  have  time  to  approach  within  gun-shot.  Quicker 
than  thought  Baar  <'':jd  his  rifle,  a  sharp  report  follows,  a 
bullet  has  dropped  I  ..orest  king,  and  he  must  die.  We  skiu 
him,  secure  ^e  two  hams,  and  after  examining  our  compass, 
and  finding  that  wo  are  near  our  place  of  destination,  shoulder 
our  plunder  as  best  we  may,  and  make  a  bee-line  for  the  log 
cabin  of  our  intended  host,  whoro  we  arrive  in  due  time,  and 
exchange  friendly  congratulations. 

Well,  now  thi*  we  are  hero,  I  must  give  a  brief  description 
of  the  man  whose  guests  wo  arc,  and  of  the  lonely  place  which 
ho  inhabits.  Like  my  bachelor  friend,  Bannac,  Antoine  Cum- 
pau  is  a  Frenchman  and  a  hunter,  but  a  widower,  and  the 
father  of  two  little  girls,  and  a  strapping  boy  df  fifteen.  A 
singular  love  oi  freedom  first  prompted  him  to  leave  the  settle- 
ment where  ho  once  lived,  and  to  locate  himself  in  the  woods, 


REOOLLBCTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


156 


where,  between  a  little  farming  and  a  good  deal  of  hunting,  he 
manages  to  support  himself  and  family  quite  comfortably.  His 
dwelling  is  a  rusty-looking  log  house,  situated  on  a  pleasant 
little  stream,  in  the  centre  ^f  a  dead  clearing  some  three  acres 
wide.  The  live  stock  of  this  embryo  farm  consists  of  a  cow, 
one  yoke  of  oxen,  a  pony,  a  few  sheep,  about  three  dozen  hens, 
and  a  number  of  foxy-looking  do^^s.  And  now  that  the  long 
winter  evening  has  set  in,  and  as  the  whole  family  is  present, 
I  will  picture  the  interior  of  our  cabin.  The  only  room,  ex- 
cepting the  garret,  is  an  oblong  square,  twenty  feet  by  fifteen. 
The  unboardeu  walls,  by  the  smoke  of  years,  have  been  changed 
into  a  rich  mahogany-brown.  The  only  light  in  the  room  is 
that  which  proceeds  from  an  immense  fire-place,  where  nearly 
a  common  cart-load  of  wood  is  burning,  and  hissing,  and  crack- 
ling at  its  own  free  will,  so  that  the  remotest  corners  are  made 
cheerful  by  the  crimson  glow.  The  principal  articles  of  furni- 
ture are  a  bed,  one  large  table  standing  in  the  centre  of  the 
floor,  and  some  half  dozen  rusji-chnirs,  while  in-  one  corner 
stands  a  number  of  shot-guns  and  rifles,  and  a  ladder  leadinjg 
to  the  loft,  and  from  the  rafters  above  are  hanging  pouches, 
powder-horns,  leggins,  a  brace  of  wild  ducks,  one  or  two  deer- 
hams,  and  a  bundle  of  dressed  skins.  The  dogs  of  the  family, 
numbering  only  four,  together  with  their  dandy  visitors,  "are 
scattered  about  the  rooms, — one  lying  upon  the  hearth  and 
watching  the  fire,  one  playing  with  his  shadow,  another  walk- 
ing thoughtfully  across  the  floor,  and  the  .other  sound  asleep. 
A  bountiful  supper  having  been  prepared  by  the  daughters, 
the  whole  family,  with  their  guests,  are  seated  at  the  table, 
and  all  past  sorrows  and  future  anxieties  are  forgotten  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  passing  hour.  Bannac  and  Gampau  have  all 
the  talking  to  themselves,  as  they  have  to  relate  their  mani- 
fold adventures  and  wonderful  escapes,  wherein  they  make  use 
of  no  less  than  three  languages — bad  French,  broken  English, 
and  genuine  Potawatamie.  The  leisure  hour  following  supper 
is  devoted  principally  to  the  cleaning  of  our  rifles^  the  mould- 
ing of  bullets,  and  other  matters  preliminary  to  the  capture  of 
a  few  wolves. 


156 


BECOLLKCTIONS  OF  MIOHIOAN. 


Ufm 


mm^ms 


For  the  novel  mode  which  we  are  to  parsue  on  this  occasion, 
we  are  indebted  to  oar  friend  Campau,  and  he  tells  us  it  will 
positively  prove  successful.  From  his  account,  it  appears  that 
only  a  few  evenings  ago  his  sheep  wtre  attacked  by  the  wolves, 
and  before  he  could  run  to  their  rescue,  one  of  them  was  killed, 
but  the  thieves  were  compelled  to  part  with  it,  or  run  the  risk 
of  losing  their  lives.  To^da^,  Campau  has  built  a  large  pen, 
wherein  he  has  placed  the  dead  sheep  as  a  kind  of  bait.  His 
idea  is  that  the  wolves  will  of  course  revisit  this  spot  to-night, 
and  when  they  are  in  the  act  of  climbing  over  the  pen,  we, 
who  are  to  be  hidden  within  gun-shot,  will  give  them  the  cold 
lead.  Behold  us  then  at  the  midnight  hour  in  our  treacherous 
ambush. 

Listen  !  Hear  you  not  the  dismal  shriek  of  an  owl  ?  Our 
enemies  must  be  coming,  for  their  footsteps  have  disturbed  the 
feathered  hermit,  as  he  sat  upon  a  limb  with  a  red  squirrel  in 
his  claw.  Yes,  there  they  are,  the  prowling  thieves,  just 
without  the  shadow  of  the  wood,  dodging  along  between  the 
blackened  stumps  of  the  clearing.  There  are  five  of  them, 
and  sec  !  with  what  activity  they  leap  into  the  fold  !  Now  is 
our  time  to  settle  them.  We  rush  forward  with  a  shout,  when 
the  villains  commence  a  retreat,  and  as  they  mount  the  high 
enclosure,  we  succeed  in  shooting  three,  while  the  other  two 
escape  unharmed.  The  dead  culprits  having  been  stripped  of 
their  hides,  their  carcasses  are  carried  awfty  and  exposed  for 
food  to  the  vulture  .and  crow.  We  then  return  to  our  cabin 
and  sleep  until  late  in  the  morning,  when  we  are  surprised  to 
find  that  a  regular  snow-storm  has  set  in.  Our  sporting  for 
to-day,  which  was  to  have  been  of  a  miscellaneous  character, 
is  given  up,  and  Bannao  thinks  it  better  that  he  and  I  should 
turn  our  faces  homeward  in  spite  of  the  storm.  Whereupon^ 
after  a  good  breakfast,  we  take  leave  of  our  hospitable  friends, 
and  through  the  falling  snow,  enter  the  forest  on  our  return. 

Snow,  snow,  8now,-~above  us,  around  us,  and  under  our  feet, 
to  the  depth  of  some  half  doeen  inches.  In  large  feathery 
flakes  it  floats  downward  through  the  still  air,  and  it  also  muffles 
our  footsteps  as  we  tramp  through  the  pathless  and  desolate 


„*♦ 


BECOLLEOTIONS  OF  MICHmAN. 


167 


woods.  Every  thing  that  meets  the  eye  is  enveloped  in  a  downy 
covering:  not  only  the  prostrate  and  decayed  tree,  but  the 
"topmost  twig  that  looks  up  at  the  sky."  Slowly  and  heavily, 
without  game,  or  a  single  adventure,  we  are  compelled  to  trudgb 
along,  and  when  we  come  in  sight  of  the  pleasant  village,  not 
a  penny  care  we  for  any  thing  else  in  this  world,  but  a  roaring 
fire  and  a  warm  supper, — ^both  of  which  in  my  father's  dwelling 
are  we  presently  permitted  to  enjoy — and  thus  ende'th  another 
portion  of  my  heart-song. 

Among  the  peculiar  character's  which  I  remember,  while 
thinking  upon  my  early  days,  none  do  I  dwell  upon  with 
more  pleasurable  feeling  than  an  old  Indian.  My  first  acquaint- 
ance with  him  took  place  when  I  was  about  twelve  years  old. 
It  was  the  pleasant  summer-time.  At  an  early  hour  of  the  day 
I  had  launched  my  little  birch  canoe  from  the  sloping  bank 
behind  our  orchard,  and,  accompanied  by  Rover,  started  on  a 
duck  hunt  down  the  river  Raisin.  I  would  here  remark,  that 
the  mouth  of  this  beautiful  river  is  studded  with  islands,  and 
has  been,  from  time  immemorial,  celebrated  for  its  abundance 
of  game.  As  I  paddled  along,  I  watched  with  an  inward  joy 
the  progress  of  the  morning.  The  farm-houses  that  had  been 
long  sleeping  amid  the  silence  of  night,  were  now  enlivened  by 
their  inmates,  who  had  sallied  forth  to  perform  their  allotted 
duties.  At  one  moment  my  ears  were  saluted  by  a  chorus  of 
voices  from  some  neighboring  poultry-yard,  mingled  with  the 
lowing  of  cows  and  the  jingling  of  bells  in  the  sheepfold.  And 
then  I  heard  the  singing  of  larks  in  the  open  fields,  the  neigh- 
ing of  a  horse,  or  the  shout  of  some  happy  boy.  The  mists, 
frightened  by  the  sunbeams,  were  rising  from  the  river,  and 
from  the  trees  on  either  side  the  dew  was  falling.  I  looked 
upon  the  changmg  landscape,  smiling  in  its  freshness,  and  felt 
my  heart  swell  within  me,  for  I  beheld  the  glory  and  goodness 
of  God,  and  I  "blessed  him  unaware." 

The  ducks  were  very  shy  that  day,  and  the  few  that  I  did 
shoot  were*  taken  on  the  wing.  I  was  about  making  up  my 
mind  to  return  home,  when  I  beheld  a  single  canvas-back  rise 
from  the  water  in  th«  distance,  and,  seemingly  unconscious  of 


158 


REC0LL7  'TIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


mi 


mj  presence,  fly  directly  over  my  head.  I  fired  at  it,  and  the 
feathers  flew.  Slowly  hut  surely  the  bird  descended,  and  at 
last  fell  upon  an  island  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  This  was 
soon  reached,  and  a  long  hour  did  I  search  for  my  game  among 
the  hushes  and  grass,  but  I  sought  in  vain.  This  island  was 
about  two  furlongs  in  length  and  one  in  width.  At  one  end 
was  a  group  of  lofty  sycamores,  and  at  the  other  three  black 
maples  sto'od  together,  like  robbers  plotting  the  destruction  of  an 
enemy.  Between  and  beneath  these,  the  dark-green  and  luxu- 
riant foliage  of  less  ambitious  trees  formed  to  all  appearance  a 
solid  mass.  Here  the  light-green  ivy  encircled  some  youthful 
ash,  from  whose  top  it  wandered  among  the  limbs  of  other 
trees ;  and  there,  the  clustering  fruit  hung  in  great  abundance 
from  the  brown  grape-vine.  While  rambling  about  this  island, 
I  discovered  in  its  centre  a  little  clearing  or  miniature  prairie, 
on  which  stood  a  single  wigwam.  A  wreath  of  smoke  rose  from 
its  chimney  between  the  trees,  gracefully  curling  upward  to  the 
sky.  I  entered  the  hut,  and  beheld  the  form  of  an  Indian, 
who  was  engaged  in  cooking  his  noonday  meal.  At  first  he  was 
surprised  at  my  presence,  but  when  I  told  him  I  was  merely  on 
a  hunting  excursion,  his  countenance  changed,  and  ho  mani- 
fested much  pleasure.  His  kindness  and  my  boyish  familiarity 
conspired  to  make  us  soon  acquainted.  He  was  »  tall,  athletic, 
well-proportioned  man,  with  dark  eagle  eyes.  His  long  locks 
of  hair  were  now  whitening  with  age.  I  will  not  dwell  upon 
the  particulars  of  that  interview.  Let  it  suffice  to  know  that  I 
departed  from  that  "  green  and  lovely  isle,"  fooling  that  I  hnd 
a  friend  in  the  person  of  t  lat  old  Indian. 

Many  a  day,  during  thi,t  summer  and  the  ensuing  autumn, 
did  I  spend  in  his  society.  Many  a  table  luxury  brought  I  to 
his  lonely  dwelling.  Many  a  lesson  has  ho  taught  me,  in  the 
arts  of  fishing  and  hunting.  Long  years  have  flown  since  then. 
But  the  wild  and  pure  enjoyments  which  I  then  participated  in 
with  this  old  Indian,  are  deeply  engraven  on  the  tablet  of  my 
memory. 

We  used  often  to  enter  our  respective  canoes  and  explore  the 
neighboring  creeks  and  rivers,  little  islands  of  the  bay,  and 


RBCOLLtCTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


159 


others  far  out  into  the  lake.  We  would  bathe  together,'  at  one 
time  wading  out  from  the  sandy  and  sloping  shore,  and  again 
leaping  and  diving  from  some  abrupt  headland  into  the  clear 
water,  so  clear  and  pure  that  the  shells  upon  the  bottom  were 
distinctly  seen  at  the  depth  of  twenty  feet  or  more.  I  never 
troubled  myself  about  the  origin  of  this  old  Indian.  His  name', 
to  whivt  nation  he  belonged,  or  his  reasons  for  thus  living  alone, 
were  things  that  I  never  desired  to  know.  I  was  caitent  to  be 
with  him,  and  during  our  various  excursions,  to  listen  to  his 
wild  legends,  his  narratives  of  strange  adventures,  and  exploits, 
which  he  would  recount  in  broken  English,  though  always  with 
the  eloquence  of  nature.  Ofttimcs  I  could  not  comprehend  his 
meaning,  more  especially  when  he  described  the  beauties  of  the 
Spirit  Land,  which  he  said  existed  far  beyond  the  setting  sun ; 
and  also  when  ho  told  me  of  its  valleys,  and  mountains,  and 
forests,  smiling  under  the  influence  of  perpetual  summer,  where 
the  singing  of  birds  was  always  heard,  and  where  the  buffalo, 
the  horse,  the  deer,  the  antelope,  the  bear,  the  wolf,  the  pan- 
ther, the  muskrat,  and  otter,  flourished  and  fattened  for  its 
inhabitants. 

When  we  looked  upon  the  lurid  lightning,  and  listened  to  the 
sullen  roar  cf  the  distant  thunder,  he  would  raise  his  hands  to 
heaven,  exclaiming,  "  the  Great  Spirit  is  anf ',"  and  kneeling 
down,  would  kiss  the  ground  in  iear  and  adora'i,:€U.  Pleasantly 
indeed  did  the  days  of  that  summer,  and  the  ensuing  autumn, 
pass  away.  At  last  winter  came,  and  the  waters  of  the  ever- 
murmuring  Raisin  were  clasped  in  his  icy  chains.  In  a  little 
time  I  lost  sight  of  my  old  friend,  for  his  island  home  was  de- 
solate,— he  had  departed, — no  one  knew  where.  Spring  came, 
and  I  was  sent  to  an  eastern  city  to  school.  Five  years  were 
flown,  and  I  returned  to  the  village  of  my  birth.  At  the 
twilight  hour  a  few  evenings  after  this,  I  was  seated  at  an  open, 
window  with  my  mother,  inhaling  the  fragrance  of  blowing 
flowers,  and  at  times  listening  to  the  mellow  tones  of  th':  sweet 
whippoorwill.  All  the  important  incidents  that  had  transpired 
during  my  absence,*  were  affectionately  and  particularly  related. 
Nothing,  however,  interested  me  so  much  as  the  following  brief 


"v, 

..1 ' 

^•^ 

■f'  ' 

"i 

41  ;.■■;. 

■'H' 

%# 

■  «■ 

'%. 

160 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


account  of  my  old  Indian  friend,  which  I  now  write  down  in 
nearly  the  words  in  which  it  was  told  me. 

"  The  summer  after  you  left  us,  an  Indian  made  his  appear- 
ance in  our  village,  whose  poverty  and  old  age  elicited  the  kind 
sympathies  and  good  wishes  of  al^  who  knew  him.  Nothing 
was  known  of  his  history,  save  that  Be  belonged  to  a  tribe  of 
Potawatamies,  a  nation  at  this  period  almost  extinct.  Alas !  for 
the  poor  aborigines  of  our  country !  To  them  the  earth  is  a  dreary 
place,  and  their  only  joy  is  in  the  hope  that  they  will  soon  join 
their  kindred  in  the  land  of  spirits.  One  by  one,  like  the  linger- 
ing sands  of  an  hour-glass,  they  are  passing  beyond  the  grave. 

"  As  I  heard  you  talk  about  an  Indian,  with  whom  you  had 
become  acquainted  while  hunting,  I  thought  this  new  comer 
might  be  the  identical  one.  While  passing  though  the  village 
one  day,  I  happened  to  meet  him,  and  invited  him  to  come  up 
and  sup  with  us  that  evening.  He  did  so ;  and  we  were  very 
glad  to  hear  that  he  was  indeed  your  friend,  whom  you  thought 
dead.  We  discovered  this  fact  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
spoke  of  a  boy  hunter,  who  used  to  visit  him  in  his  lonely 
home.  From  that  day  he  became  our  particular  friend,  as  he 
had  been  before  the  friend  of  the  whole  village. 

*'  His  dress  was  poor  and  common,  but  in  the  true  Indian 
style.  He  was  ever  a  great  favorite  among  the  boys,  in  whose 
sports  he  ohe'n  participated.  It  was  his  custom  in  summer  to 
sit  beneath  the  great  elm-tree  on  the  green,  and,  gathering  the 
children  around  him,  rehearse  to  them  wild  stories  about  the 
red  men  of  the  forest.  Sometimes  he  would  spend  a  whole  day 
in  whittling  out  bows  and  arrows  for  his  youthful  friends ;  and 
they  in  return  would  bestow  on  him  various  little  presents,  both 
curious  and  rare.  He  had  no  particular  abiding  place.  There 
were  a  dozen  houses  where  he  was  perfectly  at  home.  He  sel> 
•dom  alluded  to  his  tribe,  and  never  ventured  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  county.  This  was  indeed  unaccountable;  but  as  he 
seemed  to  possess  so  amiable  a  disposition,  no  one  could  believe 
he  had  ever  been  guilty  of  a  crime.  Rather  than  this,  it  was 
thought  he  had  been  banished  from  his  nation  on  account  of 
some  failure  in  warlike  exploits,  or  some  similar  cause. 


'   KECOLLEOTIONS  OF  HICHIGAK. 


161 


"Perhaps,  again,  be  was  an  Indian  philosopher  or  poet,  who 
had  unfortunately  drawn  upon  himself  the  ill-vrill  of  his  peo- 
ple, by  expressing  some  unpopular  opinion.  At  times  he  would 
enter  the  school-house,  and  listen  attentively  to  the  boys  recit- 
ing their  lessons.  '  A  printed  book  he  looked  upon  as  a  trea- 
sure, and  when  one  was  given  him,  considered  it  a  sacred  gift, 
though  its  contents  he  could  not  read.  He  would  often  enter 
the  church  on  the  Sabbath,  and  in  his  seat  near  the  pulpit,  with 
his  head  resting  upon  both  hands,  would  listeuj  with  an  anxious 
gaze,  to  the  preacher's  words.  He  always  left  the  house  in  a 
pensive  mood.  To  his  mind  the  heaven  of  the  Christian  was 
utterly  incomprehensible.  Of  all  the  truths  that  were  read  to 
him  from  the  Bible,  the  most  interesting  and  wonderful  was  the 
history  of  our  Saviour.  When  listening  to  this,  he  would  often 
clasp  his  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  exclaiming,  "  How 
good  man  !  how  good  man !" 

"On  all  occasions  of  festivity  he  was  a  welcome  guest. 
Christmas  and  New  Year  were  always  happy  days  with  him. 
The  little  girls  invited  him  to  their  pic-nic  parties.  The  boys 
on  Saturday  afternoon  had  him  to  keep  tally  when  they  were 
playing  ball.  He  was  always  the  leader  of  the  nutting-parties 
in  autumn,  and  a  participator  in  the  sleigh-rides  of  winter.  In 
fact,  he  was  everywhere,  and  had  a  hand  in  almost  every  thing 
that  transpired. 

"  About  six  weeks  ago  it  was  reported  throughout  the  village 
that  our  old  Indian  friend  was  very  sick,  and  at  the  point  of 
death.  The  intelligence  was  no  less  unexpected  than  melan- 
choly. He  had  so  completely  won  the  aflfection  of  every  body, 
that  it  spread  a  universal  gloom.  In  a  few  days  he  yielded  up 
his  spirit  to  his  Creator.  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and 
the  one  appointed  for  his  burial.  The  sky  was  without  a  cloud, 
and  the  cool  breeze,  as  it  rustled  am'ong  the  leaves,  brought 
health  and  refreshment  to  the  body  and  soul  of  every  one.  The 
meadow-lark,  and  woodland  birds  sang  louder  and  sweeter  than 
they  were  wont  to  do.  A  good  man  had  died,  and  nature,  ani- 
mate and  inanimate,  seemed  anxious  to  pronounce  his  requiem. 
A  larger  funeral  than  this  I  have  seldom  seen.  Old  men  and 
11 


162 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


^^% 


women,  yoang  men  and  maidens,  and  little  children,  with  tear- 
ful eyes  followed  the  old  Indian  to  his  grave.  It  is  situated  in 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  burying  ground,  in  the  shadow  of 
two  weeping-willows,  that  seem  the  guardians  of  his  silent  rest- 
ing place." 

On  the  following  morning,  an  hour  before  sunset,  I  stood  be- 
side the  clay  cottage  of  my  Indian  friend.  Green  was  the 
grass,  and  many  and  beautiful  the  flowers  that  flourished  above 
his  grave.  I  plucked  a  single  harebell  and  thought  of  the  de- 
parted, whom  I  dearly  loved, — who  was  born  a  benighted  hea- 
then, but  who  died  a  Christian.  The  mildly  beaming  and 
beautiful  evening  star  had  risen  in  the  west,  ere  I  departed 
from  the  '*  Silent  City ;"  but  I  felt  that  the  flower  I  had  plucked, 
though  faded,  would  in  after  hours  remind  me  of  my  friend,  and 
I  therefore  came  away  in  peace,  repeating  to  myself  these 
words : 

"And  I  am  glad  that  ho  has  lived  thus  long, 
And  glad  that  he  has  gone  to  his  reward  ; 
Nor  deem  that  kindly  Nature  did  him  wrong, 
Softly  to  disengage  the  vital  cord. 
When  his  weak  hand  grew  palsied,  and  his  eye. 
Dark  with  the  mists  of  age,  it  was  his  time  to  die." 

Bryant. 

And  now  comes  the  conclusion  of  my  long  rhapsody.  The 
time  of  my  departure  for  my  distant  city  home  is  at  hand.  A 
few  more  wilderness  pictures,  illustrative  of  my  native  State  as 
it  was  in  other  days,  and  I  will  lay  aside  my  pen. 

Weary  with  the  hunt,  I  lately  sought  the  shady  side  of  a 
gentle  hill,  and  extending  my  limbs  upon  the  green  sward 
amused  myself  by  watching  the  sky.  I  gazed  upon  the  blue 
canopy,  and  fancied  it  to  be  an  ocean,  beyond  which  the  broad 
and  beautiful  fields  of  heaven  were  basking  beneath  the  smiles 
of  God.  A  few  white  feathery  clouds  were  floating  there,  and 
they  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  fleet  returning  from  their  home  of 
peace.  In  the  dark  regions  of  night  they  had  fought  and  con- 
quered the  enemy,  and  now,  laden  with  redeemed  souls,  were 
hastening  to  the  haven  of  eternal  rest.     Fancy,  which  had  pic- 


over  some  ( 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


163 


tured  this  image,  was  gone ;  I  saw  nothing  save  an  eagle  play- 
ing above  the  trees  of  the  forest,  and  in  a  moment  I  was  a 
dreamer. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  entered  the  forest  just  as  the  glorious 
summer  sun  was  sinking  to  his  repose.  The  evening  star  rose 
in  the  west,  and  in  a  little  while  from  the  zenith  a  thousand 
other  bright  constellations  looked  smilingly  down  upon  the 
earth.  Something  whispered  me  that  I  must  spend  the  long 
watches  of  that  night  in  wandering  in  the  wilderness ;  and  I 
departed  with  the  silence  of  a  shadow,  and  the  speed  of  a  deer. 
Strange,  and  wild,  and  beautiful  were  the  scenes  I  beheld. 

The  mighty  trees  which  rose  on  every  side  seemed  lik^^  the 
columns  of  a  vast  temple,  whose  mysterious  winding  aisles, 
overhung  with  foliage,  were  deserted  and  desolate.  No  moving 
objects  met  my  eye,  save  the  fire-flies  that  darted  in  all  direc- 
tions, floating  and  sinking  like  burning  flakes  of  snow.  The 
gloomy  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  chirp  of  the  cricket,  and 
the  song  of  the  katydid.  At  intervals,  too,  the  clear  soothing 
voice  of  the  whippoorwill  would  echo  far  and  near.  The  huge 
masses  of  foliage  above,  reminded  me  of  thunder-clouds,  and 
like  them  oppressed  my  spirit ;  and  it  was  so  still  that  "  the 
dropping  dew  woke  startling  echoes  in  the  sleeping  wood." 

My  pathway  was  not  smooth,  for  I  was  forced  to  leap,  now 
over  some  dead  tree,  and  now  over  a  pile  of  brush  ;  and  again 
over  a  mossy  hillock,  or  some  gurgling  brooklet.  Ever  and 
anon  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  deep  blue  sky ;  but  in  a  mo- 
ment it  was  lost  to  view,  and  I  was  in  total  darkness.  My 
vision  was  wonderful.  I  saw  all  surrounding  objects  with 
intense  clearness ;  for  to  me  the  "  darkness  was  as  the  light  of 
day."  At  times  I  paused  to  listen,  startled  by  some  distant 
sound ;  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  the  hooting  of  an  owl,  or  the  "  ttum- 
pct-tone"  of  a  flying  swan ;  and  as  I  listened,  it  would  become 
a  murmur,  then  a  whisper,  and  at  last  die  into  a  breathless 
stillness. 

At  the  foot  of  a  gnarled  and  stunted  oak  I  saw  the  manly 
form  of  an  Indian,  wrapped  in  his  scarlet  blanket,  and  extended 
upon  a  bearskin.     He  was  fast  asleep.     On  one  side  of  him. 


164 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HIOHIOAN. 


pi' 
J.'ji'i 

4M0 


and  within  his  reach  lay  a  hundle  of  arrows,  and  an  unstrung 
bow ;  on  the  other,  a  knapsack  of  provisions  and  a  wolfish- 
looking  dog.  But  this  guardian  of  the  slumbering  savage  was 
also  fast  asleep.  As  I  looked  upon  \.his  simple  picture,  the 
feelings  of  my  heart  responded  to  my  thoughts,  and  I  exclaimed, 
though  there  was  no  echo  to  my  words:  "Poor,  lone  Indian! 
Is  that  dog  thy  only  friend  ?  Art  thou  indeed  alone  in  the 
wide,  wide  world  ?  Hast  thou  no  wife  to  sympathize  with  thee, 
to  love  thee,  in  those  hours  of  disappointment  and  trouble  in- 
cident to  human  life  ?  No  children  to  play  around  thy  knees, 
and  make  thee  happy  in  some  comfortable  wigwam,  when  tlio 
blue  and  scarlet  birds  make  melody  in  summer,  and  the  wind 
Euroclydon  howls  and  roars  among  the  forest  trees  in  winter  ? 
Hast  thou  no  daughter  to  protect  and  cherish,  that  she  may  be 
the  bride  of  some  future  warrior  ?  No  son  to  listen,  with  flash- 
ing eye,  to  thy  hunting  lessons ;  to  smite  his  breast  with  pride 
and  anger  as  thou  tellest  him  of  the  bravery  and  wrongs  of  thy 
ancestors  ?  0  that  I  knew  thy  history  !  But  I  will  not  disturb 
thy  slumber.  May  thy  dreams  be  of  that  land  beyond  the  sun- 
set clouds,  where  perpetual  summer  reigns, — the  land  of  the 
Great  Spirit, — the  God  of  thy  fathers." 

How  vividly  do  the  scenes  and  incidents  of  that  night  rise 
before  my  vision  !  I  see  them  now  with  the  same  distinctness 
that  I  beheld  them  then.  I  stand  upon  the  shore  of  that  dark 
stream,  rolling  through  the  dense  woods,  where  the  full  blaze 
of  daylight  has  not  penetrated  for  centuries.  I  hear  that  un- 
couth but  solemn  funeral  hymn,  and  see  a  band  of  stern  red 
men  performing  their  mysterious  rites  over  the  grave  of  an 
aged  chieftain. 

Not  less  sudden  than  varied  are  the  scenes  I  behold.  On 
that  high  dry  limb,  under  a  canopy  of  leaves,  a  flock  of  tur- 
keys are  roosting.  They  are  all  asleep  save  one,  and  he  is 
acting  the  part  of  a  sentinel,  darting  out  his  long  nock,  now 
this  way,  now  that,  as  if  he  beheld  an  enemy.  Fat,  sleepy  fel- 
low !  There  was  a  time  when  it  would  have  been  temerity  to 
look  at  me  thus.  I  am  not  a  hunter  now,  else  would  I  bring 
you  down  from  your  lofty  resting-place. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


165 


My  course  is  onward.  Hark !  I  hear  a  yell,  and  a  rushing 
sound.  Two  wolves  are  chasing  a  beautiful  doe.  Poor  crea- 
ture !  _  Her  strength  is  already  lessening,  her  race  is  run.  The 
wolves  have  seized  her.  There  is  a  struggle ;  the  blood  issues 
from  her  graceful  neck ;  one  gasp  more  and  the  tender  mother 
of  two  sweet  fawns  lies  dead.  Its  bones  will  moulder  and  min- 
gle with  the  earth,  giving  nourishment  to  that  cluster  of  hazel- 
bushes,  which  stand  beside  her  mossy  death-bed.  Awakened 
by  the  scent,  a  croaking  raven  is  wheeling  in  the  distance.  Its 
wings  flap  heavily,  and  there  are  two,  and  still  another !  See ! 
we  come  to  a  kind  of  opening, — a  place  where  the  trees  grow 
less  closely  together.  A  cloud  of  thin  white  smoke  is  rising, 
as  if  from  yonder  pile  of  underbrush.  It  is  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment ;  a  dozen  bark  wigwams,  shaped  like  a  sugar-loaf.  But 
why  this  bustle,  at  so  late  an  hour  ?  The  men  have  just  re- 
turned from  a  three  days'  hunting  tour,  and  they  are  now  re- 
leasing their  pack-horses  from  their  loads  of  spoil.  The  blaze 
from  a  fire  gives  all  surrounding  objects  a  ruddy  glow.  In  dire 
confusioH  upon  the  ground  lie  haunches  of  venison,  red  and 
gray  squirrels  and  racoons,  turkeys,  grouse,  ducks,  pheasants, 
and  many  other  lesser  birds,  mingled  with  guns,  bows  and  ar- 
rows, shot- pouches,  powder-horns,  skins,  halters,  brass  kettles, 
and  the  like.  The  men  are  busy,  and  the  women  too.  Roused 
from  a  four  hours'  nap,  several  children  are  coming  out  of  their 
tents,  rubbing  their  eyes.  They  seem  to  be  the  only  playmates 
of  the  whining  dogs. 

Lo  !  what  a  beauteous  sight !  A  herd  of  deer  reposing  like 
a  family  of  wood-sprites,  near  yonder  clump  of  young  maples. 
There  are  three  bucks,  five  does,  and  two  lovely  spotted  fawns. 
Upon  that  decayed  "stump"  beyond,  a  solitary  American 
nightingale  is  resting.  It  is  my  favorite  bird.  Would  that  I 
knew  the  cause  of  its  complainings  and  chastisement,  for  every 
now  r.nd  then  it  utters  forth  the  cry,  "  Why  whip  poor  Will  ?" 

What  silver  rays  are  those  darting  down  through  the  leafy 
boughs  ?  The  moon  !  the  moon !  High  in  heaven  she  sails, 
in  queenly  beauty.  The  very  heart  of  the  forest  is  not  beyond 
her  vivifying  influence.  Festoons  of  oreeping  plants  hang  from 


)iJ 


166 


BECOLLEOTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


.■  • 


the  surrounding  limbs ;  and  the  ivy  and  grape-vine  have  twined 
themselves  so  closely  around  that  ash,  as  entirely  to  hide  from 
view  the  bark  of  the  trunk.  I  thrust  my  hand  against  a.  bush, 
and  a  thousand  dew-drops  fall  to  the  earth,  glittering  in  the 
moonbeams.  If  my  lady-love  were  with  me,  what  a  gorgeous 
wreath  could  I  now  weave  for  her  beautiful  brow  out  of  the 
purple  and  scarlet  iris,  the  blue  larkspur,  the  moccasin-flower, 
the  crimson  and  green  lichen,  and  other  mosses,  flowers,  and 
vines,  too  delicate  to  have  a  name. 

A  gentle  breeze  is  stirring.  The  tops  of  the  trees  are  mov- 
ing to  and  fro  with  the  strong  but  gentle  motion  of  a  ground- 
swell.  Soothing  is  the  music  of  the  leaves ;  they  seem  to  mur- 
mur with  excess  of  joy.  Another  sound  echoes  through  the 
listening  wilderness.  It  is  only  a  scufile  between  a  panther  and 
a  bear.  Let  them  growl  and  fight ;  who  cares  ?  How  like 
two  hot-headed  politicians  they  seem ! 

Again  are  the  trees  becoming  thinner,  and  my  steps  are 
tending  downward.  The  green-sward  I  press  is  without  a  sin- 
gle stick  or  bramble.  Here  I  am  upon  the  brink  of  a  little 
lake  of  the  very  purest  water !  The  breeze  has  spent  its  force, 
and  everything  is  still.  It  is  "  the  bridal  hour  of  the  earth 
and  sky !"  What  a  perfect  mirror  is  this  liquid  element !  The 
counterpart  of  two  willows,  a  grass-grown  rock,  tall  reeds,  and 
beyond  all,  a  row  of  slender  elms,  and  a  lightning-shivered 
pine,  are  distinctly  seen,  pointing  downward,  downward  to  the 
moon  and  stars,  in  the  cerulean  void  beneath.  And  in  yon 
deep  shadow  a  flouk  of  ducks  are  floating  silently,  amid  tlio 
sweet  perfume  of  the  wild  lotus  and  white  water-lily,  which  are 
growing  near.  One  or  two  have  wandered  out  into  the  lake, 
making  no  ripple,  but  moving  as  if  lured  away  by  the  glossy 
loveliness  of  their  shadows. 

But  see !  I  have  reached — surely  it  can  be  no  other — a 
prairie!  What  dark  cloud  is  brooding  over  this  motionless 
ocean  ? — a  mighty  flame  bursting  from  its  centre  ?  It  comes ! 
it  comes  !  The  prairie  is  on  fire !  The  wind  is  rising,  and 
swift  as  the  wind  speed  the  flame-banners.  Maddened  by  fear, 
the  buflalo,  the  wild  horse,  the  wolf,  the  doer,  birds  and  other 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MICHIGAN. 


167 


living  creatures,  are  fleeing  for  their  lives.  Roaring  and  hiss- 
ing the  fire-flood  rolls  on,  swallowing  up  everything  in  its 
course.  And  now  it  has  gone,  leaving  behind  it  a  wide  path 
of  blackness.  The  smoke  obscures  the  moon  and  stars.  "  Far 
off  its  coming  shone;"  the  incense,  one  could  almost  imagine, 
of  a  sacrifice  offered  to  the  great  God  by  the  Earth,  for  some 
enormous  sin.     But  it  is  gone,  and  I  resume  my  journey. 

I  am  now  in  an  open  country  of  hills  and  dales.  A  narrow 
but  deep  river  is  gliding  by  me  in  its  pride  and  beauty.  Now 
it  is  lost  to  view  by  some  abrupt  headland,  and  anon  it  makes 
a  long  sweep  through  a  plain  or  meadow,  its  ripples  sporting 
in  the  moonlight.  I  hear  the  splash  of  fish,'leaping  from  their 
watery  bed.  I  hear  the  measured  stroke  of  a  paddle.  It  is  an 
Indian  in  his  canoe,  passing  down  the  river.  He  has  startled 
a  loon  from  his  wavy  cradle  below  the  rapids.  I  hear  the 
sound  of  a  waterfall  A  mile  away  there  is  a  precipice,  where 
the  river  gathers  all  its  strength  for  a  fearful  leap.  Now  its 
surface  is  without  a  ripple, — but  in  a  moment  more,  it  plunges 
down  among  the  rocks,  and  the  waves  struggle,  and  leap,  and 
rise  and  sink,  like  demon  spirits  in  agony. 

I  am  standing  on  a  hill  which  overlooks  a  lovely  landscape  of 
woods  and  lawns,  streams,  hills,  valleys,  and  cultivated  fields, 
— farm-houses,  and  church  steeples.  In  the  distance  sleep  the 
bright-green  waves  of  Lake  Erie.  A  streak  of  daylight  is  in 
the  eastern  sky.  The  spell  is  broken ;  —  my  dream  and  my 
wayward  pilgrimage  are  both  ended. 


iMmBSKi 


R 


A  TOUR 


TO  TUB 


KIVER  SAGUENAY 


fi'  Mf 


iiij^;H?{|i 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


I  COMMENCE  this  chapter  in  the  language  of  Leather  Stock- 
ing : — "  You  know  the  Catskills,  lad,  for  you  must  have  seen 
them  on  your  left,  as  you  followed  the  river  up  from  York, 
looking  as  blue  as  a  piece  of  clear  sky,  and  holding  the  clouds 
on  their  tops,  as  the  smoke  curls  over  the  head  of  an  Indian 
chief  at  a  council-fire."  Yes,  everybody  is  acquainted  with 
the  names  of  these  mountains,  but  few  with  their  peculiarities 
of  scenery.  Associated  as  they  are  with  such  proud  names  as 
Cooper  and  Irving,  Bryant  and  Cole,  it  is  not  strange  that  they 
should  be  particularly  dear  to  every  American. '  They  are  si- 
tuated about  eight  miles  from  the  Hudson,  rise  to  an  average 
elevation  of  about  thirty-five  hundred  feet,  and  running  in  a 
straight  line  from  north  to  south,  cover  a  space  of  come  twenty- 
five  miles.  The  fertile  valley  on  the  east  is  as  beautiful  as  heart 
could  desire ;  it  is  watered  by  the  Kauterskill,  Flauterkill  and 
Esopus  creeks,  inhabited  by  a  sturdy  Dutch  yeomanry,  and  is 
the  agricultural  mother  of  the  towns  known  as  Catskill,  Sau- 
gerties  and  Kingston.  The  upland  on  the  west  for  about  forty 
miles  is  rugged,  dreary  and  thinly  settled,  but  the  winding  val- 
ley of  Schoharie  beyond  is  possessed  of  many  charms  pecu- 
liarly American.  The  mountains  themselves  are  covered  with 
dense  forests  abounding  in  clifis  and  waterfalls,  and  for  tho 
most  part  untrodden  by  the  footsteps  of  man.  Looking  at  them 
from  the  Hudson,  the  eye  is  attracted  by  two  deep  hollows, 
which  are  called  *'  Cloves."  The  one  nearest  to  the  Mountain 
House,  Kauterskill  Clove,  is  distinguished  for  a  remarkable 
fall,  which  has  been  made  familiar  to  the  world  by  tho  pen  of 


'..i(e'- 


"im 


172 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


Bryant  and  the  pencil  of  Cole ;  but  this  Clove  is  rapidly  fill- 
ing with  human  habitations ;  while  the  other,  Plauterkill  Clove, 
though  yet  possessing  much  of  its  original  glory,  is  certain  of 
the  same  destiny.  The  gorge  whence  issues  the  Etopus,  is 
among  the  Shandaken  mountains,  and  not  visible  from  the 
Hudson. 

My  nominal  residence,  at  the  present  time,  is  at  the  mouth 
of  Plauterkill  Clove.  To  the  west,  and  only  half  a  mile  from 
my  abode,  are  the  beautiful  mountains,  whose  outlines  fade 
away  to  the  north,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  when  covered  with 
a  visible  atmosphere.  The  nearest,  and  to  me  the  most  beloved 
of  these,  is  called  South  Peak.  It  is  nearly  four  thousand  feet 
high,  and  covered  from  base  to  summit  with  one  vast  forest  of 
trees,  varying  from  eighty  to  an  hundred  feet  in  height.  Like 
its  brethren,  it  is  a  wild  and  uncultivated  wilderness,  abounding 
in  all  the  interesting  features  of  mountain  scenery.  Like  a 
comer-stone,  does  it  stand  at  the  junction  of  the  northern  and 
western  ranges  of  the  Catskills ;  and  as  its  huge  form  looms 
against  the  evening  sky,  it  inspires  one  with  awe,  as  if  it  were 
the  ruler  of  the  world : — yet  I  have  learned  to  love  it  as  a 
friend.  I  have  pondered  upon  its  impressive  features  when 
reposing  in  the  noontide  sunshine,  when  enveloped  in  clouds, 
when  holding  communion  with  the  most  holy  night,  and  when 
trembling  under  the  influence  of  a  thunder-storm  and  encircled 
by  a  rainbow.  It  has  filled  my  soul  with  images  of  beauty  and 
sublimity,  and  made  me  feel  the  omnipotence  of  God. 

A  day  and  a  night  was  it  lately  my  privilege  to  spend  upon 
this  mountain,  accompanied  by  &  poet  friend.  We  started  at 
an  early  hour,  equipped  in  our  brown  fustians,  and  laden  with 
well-filled  knapsacks — one  with  a  hatchet  in  his  belt,  and  the 
other  with  a  brace  of  pistols.  We  were  bound  to  the  extreme 
summit  of  the  peak,  where  we  intended  to  spend  the  night, 
witness  the  rising  of  the  sun,  and  return  at  our  leisure  on  the 
following  day.  But  when  I  tell  my  readers  that  our  course  lay 
right  up  the  almost  perpendicular  side  of  the  mountain,  where 
there  was  no  path  save  that  formed  by  a  torrent  or  a  bear,  they 
will  readily  believe  it  was  somewhat  rare  and  romantic.    But 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


173 


this  was  what  we  delighted  in ;  so  we  shouted  ''  excelsior !" 
and  commenced  the  ascent.  The  air  was  excessively  sultry, 
and  the  very  first  effort  we  made  caused  the  peroplration  to 
start  most  profusely.  Upward,  upward  was  our  course,  now 
climbing  through  a  tangled  thicket,  or  under  the  spray  of  a 
cascade,  and  then,  ajrain,  supporting  ourselves  by  the  roots  of 
saplings,  or  scrambling  under  a  fallen  tree ; — now,  like  the 
samphire  gatherer,  scaling  a  precipice,  and  then  again  clamber- 
ing over  a  rock,  or  "  shinning"  up  a  hemlock  tree  to  reach  a 
desired  point. 

Our  first  halt  was  made  at  a  singular  spot  called  "  Hunter's 
Hole,"  which  is  a  spacious  cavern  or  pit,  forty  feet  deep,  and 
twenty  wide,  and  approached  only  by  a  fissure  in  the  mountain, 
sufficiently  large  to  admit  a  man.  Connected  with  this  place 
is  the  following  story.  Many  years  ago,  a  farmer,  residing  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  having  missed  a  favorite  dog,  and 
being  anxious  for  his  safety,  called  together  his  neighbors,  and 
offered  a  reward  for  the  safe  return  of  his  canine  friend.  Always 
ready  to  do  a  kind  deed,  a  number  of  them  started  in  different 
directions  for  the  hunt.  A  barking  sound  having  been  heard 
to  issue  from  this  cavern,  it  was  discovered,  and  at  the  bottom 
of  it  the  lost  dog,  which  had  probably  fallen  therein  while 
chasing  a  fox.  "  But  how  shall  he  be  extricated  from  this 
hole  ?"  was  the  general  inquiry  of  the  now  assembled  hunters. 
Not  one  of  all  the  group  would  venture  to  descend,  under  any 
circumstances ;  so  that  the  poor  aniiral  remained  a  prisoner  for 
another  night.  But  the  next  morning  he  was  released,  and  by 
none  other  than  a  brave  boy,  the  son  of  the  farmer  and  play- 
mate of  the  dog.  A  large  number  of  men  were  present  on  the 
occasion.  A  strong  rope  was  tied  around  the  body  of  the  child, 
and  he  was  gently  lowered  down.  On  reaching  the  bottom, 
and  finding,  by  the  aid  ol  his  lamp,  that  he  was  in  a  "  real  nice 
place,"  the  little  rogue  concluded  to  have  some  sport,  where- 
upon he  proceeded  to  pull  down  more  rope,  until  he  had  made 
a  coil  of  two  hundred  feet,  which  was  bewildering  enough  to 
the  crowd  above ;  but  nothing  happened  to  him  during  the  ad- 
venture, and  the  dog  was  rescued.     The  young  hero  having 


174 


THK  OATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


if^^^l 


played  his  trick  so  well,  it  was  generally  supposed,  for  a  long 
time  after,  that  this  cavern  was  two  hundred  feet  deep,  and 
none  were  ever  found  sufficiently  bold  to  enter  in,  even  after  a 
beautiful  fox.  The  bravery  of  the  boy,  however,  was  the 
cause  of  his  death,  for  he  was  cut  down  by  a  leaden  ball  in  the 
war  of  1812. 

The  next  remarkable  place  that  we  attained  in  ascending 
South  Peak,  was  the  Bear  Bank,  where,  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
may  be  found  an  abundance  of  these  charming  creatures.  It 
is  said  thjjt  they  have  often  been  seen  sunning  themselves,  even 
from  the  hills  east  of  the  Hudson. 

We  were  now  upon  a  beetling  precipice,  three  hundred  feet 
high,  and  under  the  shadow  of  a  huge  pine,  we  enjoyed  a  slico 
of  bread  and  pork,  with  a  few  drops  of  genuine  mountain  dew. 
Instead  of  a  dessert  of  strawberries  and  cream,  however,  we 
were  furnished  by  venerable  dame  Nature  with  a  thunder-storm. 
It  was  one  that  we  had  noticed  making  a  great  commotion  in 
the  valley  below.  It  had,  probably,  discovered  two  bipeds  go- 
ing towards  its  homoj  the  sky,  and  seemed  to  have  pursued  us 
with  a  view  of  frightening  us  back  again.  But,  "  knowing 
that  Nature  never  did  betray  the  heart  that  loved  her,"  wc 
awaited  the  thunder-storm's  reply  to  our  obstinate  refusal  to 
descend.  The  cloud  was  yet  below  us,  but  its  unseen  herald,  a 
strong  east  wind,  told  us  that  .the  conflict  had  commenced. 
Presently,  a  peal  of  thunder  resounded  through  the  vast  pro- 
found, which  caused  the  mountain  to  tremble  to  its  deep  foun- 
dation. And  then  followed  another,  and  another,  as  the  storm 
increased ;  and  the  rain  and  hail  poured  down  in  floods.  Think- 
ing it  more  safe  to  expose  ourselves  to  the  storm  than  remain 
under  the  pine,  we  retreated  without  delay,  when  we  were  sud- 
denly enveloped  in  the  heart  of  the  cloud,,  only  a  few  rods 
distant.  Then  a  stroke  of  lightning  blinded  us,  and  the  tower- 
ing forest  monarch  was  smitten  to  the  earth.  We  were  in  the 
midst  of  an  unwritten  epic  poem  about  that  time,  but  we  could 
not  appreciate  its  beauties,  for  another  peal  of  thunder,  and 
another  stroke  of  lightning,  attracted  our  whole  attention. 
Soon  as  these  had  passed,  a  terrible  gale  followed  in  their  wake, 


y  ^-imi 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


175 


tumbling  down  piles  of  loose  rocks,  and  bending  to  the  dust,  as 
though  in  passion,  the  resisting  forms  of  an  army  of  trees ;  and 
afterwards,  a  glorious  rainbow  spanned  the  mountain,  appear- 
ing like  those  distinguishing  circles  around  the  temples  of  the 
Mighty  and  Holy,  as  portrayed  by  the  painters  of  old.  The 
commotion  lifted  for  an  hour,  when  the  region  of  the  Bear 
Bank  became  as  serene  as  the  slumber  of  a  babe.  A  spirit  of 
silent  prayer  was  brooding  upon  the  earth  and  in  the  air,  and 
with  a  shadow  of  thoughtfulness  at  our  hearts,  we  resumed  our 
upward  march. 

Our  next  halting  place  was  upon  a  sort  of  peninsula  called 
the  Eagle's  Nest,  where,  it  is  said,  an  Indian  child  was  formerly 
carried  by  one  of  those  birds,  and  cruelly  destroyed,  and  whence 
the  frantic  mother,  with  the  mangled  body  of  her  babe,  leaped 
into  the  terrible  abyss  below.  From  this  point  we  discovered 
a  host  of  clouds  assembled  in  council  above  High  Peak,  as  if 
discussing  the  parched  condition  of  the  earth,  and  the  speediest 
mode  of  affording  relief  to  a  still  greater  extent  than  they  had 
done ;  and  far  away  to  the  west,  was  another  assembly  of 
clouds,  vieiug,  like  sporting  children,  to  outrun  and  overleap 
each  other  in  their  aerial  amphitheatre. 

After  this  we  surmounted  another  point  called  Battlesnake 
Ledg^.  Here  the  rocks  were  literally  covered  with  the  white 
bones  of  those  reptiles,  slaughtered  by  the  hunter  in  by-gone 
years,  and  we  happened  to  see  a  pair  of  them  that  were  alive. 
One  was  about  four  feet  long,  and  the  other,  which  was  only 
half  as  large,  seemed  to  be  the  offspring  of  the  old  one,  for, 
when  discovered,  they  were  playing  together  like  an  affectionate 
mother  with  her  tender  child.  Soon  as  we  appeared  in  their 
presence,  the  serpents  immediately  ceased  their  sport,  and  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  coiled  themselves  in  the  attitude  of 
battle.  The  conflict  was  of  sliort  duration,  and  to  know  thu 
result  you  need  only  look  into  my  cabinet  of  curiosities. 

Higher  yet  was  it  our  lot  to  climb.  We  went  a  little  out  of 
our  course  to  obtain  a  bird's-eye  view  of  a  mountain  lake.  In 
its  tranquil  bosom  the  glowing  evening  sky  and  mountain  sides 
were  vividly  reflected,  and  the  silence  surrounding  it  was  so 


dM 


176 


THE  OATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


profound  that  we  could  almost  hear  the  ripples  made  by  a  soli- 
tary duck,  as  it  swam  from  one  shore  to  the  other  in  its  utter 
loneliness.  Very  beautiful,  indeed,  was  this  picture,  and  as  I 
reflected  upon  it,  I  thought  that  as  the  Infant  of  Bethlehem 
was  tenderly  protected  by  the  parents  who  watched  over  its 
slumbers,  so  was  this  exquisite  lake  cradled  and  protected  in 
the  lap  of  the  mountains. 

One  sight  more  did  we  behold  before  reaching  the  summit  of 
South  Peak.  It  was  the  sunset  hour,  and  on  &  jutting  clifT 
which  commanded  an  immense  view,  our  eyes  were  delighted 
by  the  sight  of  a  deer,  standing  still,  and  looking  down  upon 
the  silent  void  below,  which  was  then  covered  with  a  deep  pur- 
ple atmosphere,  causing  the  prospect  to  resemble  the  boundless 
ocean.  It  was  the  last  of  its  race  we  could  not  but  fancy, 
bidding  the  human  world  good  night,  previous  to  departing  for 
its  heathery  couch  in  a  nameless  ravine. 

One  effort  more  and  the  long-desired  eminence  was  attained, 
and  we  were  a  little  nearer  the  evening  star  than  we  had  ever 
been  before.  It  was  now  the  hour  of  twilight,  and  as  we  were 
about  done  over  with  fatigue,  it  was  not  long  before  we  had 
pitched  our  leafy  tent,  eaten  some  supper,  and  yielded  our- 
selves to  the  embrace  of  sleep,  ''  dear  mother  of  fresh  thoughts 
and  joyous  health !" 

At  midnight,  a  cooling  breath  of  air  having  passed  across 
my  face,  I  was  awakened  from  a  fearful  dream,  which  left  mc 
in  a  nervous  and  excited  state  of  mind.  A  strange  and  solemn 
gloom  had  taken  possession  of  my  spirit,  which  was  greatly 
enhanced  by  the  doleful  song  of  a  neighboring  hemlock  grove. 
Our  encampment  having  been  uade  a  little  below  the  summit 
of  the  peak,  and  feeling  anxious  to  behold  the  prospect  at  that 
hour,  from  that  point,  I  awakened  my  companion,  and  wc 
seated  ourselves  upon  the  topmost  rock,  which  was  nearly  bare 
of  shrubs,  but  covered  with  a  rich  moss,  softer  and  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  finest  carpet.  But  how  can  I  describe  the  scene 
that  burst  upon  our  enraptured  vision  ?  It  was  unlike  any- 
thing I  had  ever  seen  before,  creating  a  lone,  lost  feeling, 
which  I  supposed  could  only  be  realized  by  a  wanderer  in  an 


us,  were  1 


THE  CATBKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


177 


uninhabited  wilderness,  or  on  the  ocean,  a  thousand  leagues 
from  home.  Above,  around  and  beneath  us,  ay,  far  beneath 
U8,  were  the  cold  bright  stars,  and  to  the  eastward  the  "young 
moon  with  the  old  moon  in  her  arms."  In  the  west  were  float- 
ing a  little  band  of  pearly  clouds,  which  I  almost  fancied  to  be 
winged  chariots,  and  that  they  were  crowded  with  children, 
jhe  absent  and  loved  of  other  years,  who,  in  a  frolic  of  blissful 
joy,  were  out  upon  the  fields  of  heaven.  On  one  side  of  us 
reposed  the  long  broad  valley  of  the  Hudson,  with  its  cities, 
towns,  villages,  woods,  hiils,  and  plains,  whose  crowded  high- 
way was  diminished  to  a  narrow  girdle  of  deep  blue.  Towards 
the  south,  hill  beyond  hill,  field  beyond  field  receded  to  the 
sky,  occasionally  enlivened  by  a  peaceful  lake.  On  our  right 
a  multitudinous  array  of  rugged  mountains  lay  piled  up,  appa- 
rently as  impassable  as  the  bottomless  gulf.  In  the  north,  old 
High  Peak,  King  of  the  Catskills,  bared  his  bosom  to  the 
moonlight,  as  if  demanding  and  expecting  the  homage  of  the 
world.  Strange  and  magnificent,  indeed,  was  the  prospect 
from  that  mountain  watch-tower,  and  it  was  with  reluctance 
that  we  turned  away,  as  in  duty  bound,  to  slumber  until  the 
dawn.  The  dawn  !  and  now  for  a  sunrise  picture  among  the 
mountains,  with  all  the  illusive  performances  of  the  mists  and 
clouds !  He  comes !  he  comes !  "  the  king  of  the  bright  days !' ' 
Now  the  crimson  and  golden  clouds  are  parting,  and  he  bursts 
on  the  bewildered  sight !  One  moment  more,  and  the  whole 
earth  rejoices  in  his  beams,  falling  alike  as  they  do  upon  the 
prince  and  the  peasant  of  every  land.  And  now,  on  either 
side  and  beneath  the  sun  an  array  of  new-born  clouds  are 
gathering — like  a  band  of  cavaliers,  preparing  to  accompany 
their  leader  on  a  journey.  Out  of  the  Atlantic  have  they  just 
arisen ;  at  noon,  they  will  have  pitched  their  tents  on  the  ceru- 
lean plains  of  heaven ;  and  when  the  hours  of  day  are  num- 
Wred,  the  far-off"  waters  of  the  Pacific  will  again  receive  them 
m  its  cool  embrace.  Listen !  was  not  that  the  roar  of  waves  ? 
Naught  but  the  report  of  thunder  in  the  valley  below.  Are 
not  tho  '  '  >  oceans  coming  together  ?  See  !  we  are  on  a  rock 
in  the  midst  of  ai  illimitable  sea,  and  the  tide  is  surely  rising 
%% 


« 

dlffl 

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mig 

.  .tt-  ■  rt?^ 


•"II.Fw 


mi 


178 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


'il'^ij^uju^r 


— rising  rapidly  !  Strange  !  it  is  still  as  death,  and  yet  the 
oceans  are  covered  with  billows  !  Lo  !  the  naked  masts  of  a 
ship,  stranded  on  a  lee  shore  ! — and  yonder,  as  if  a  reef  were 
hidden  there  to  impede  their  course,  the  waves  are  struggling 
in  despair,  now  leaping  to  the  sky,  and  now  plunging  into  a 
deep  abyss  !  And  when  thoy  have  passed  the  unseen  enemy, 
how  rapid  and  beautiful  a:c'^  thei''  various  evolutions,  as  they 
hasten  to  the  more  distant  si  .  ^  Another  look,  and  what  a 
change  !  The  mists  of  morning  are  being  exhaled  by  the  rising 
sun,  already  the  world  of  waters  is  dispersed,  and  in  the  valley 
of  the  Hudson,  far,  far  away,  are  reposing  all  the  enchanting 
features  of  the  green  earth. 

We  descended  the  mountain  by  a  circuitous  route,  that  we 
might  enjoy  the  luxury  of  passing  through  Plauterkill  Clove. 
The  same  spring  that  gives  rise  to  Schoharie  Creek,  which  is 
the  principal  tributary  of  the  Mohawk,  also  gives  rise  to  the 
Plauterkill.  In  its  very  infancy,  it  begins  to  leap  and  laugh 
Avith  the  gladness  of  a  boy.  From  its  source  to  the  plain,  the 
distance  is  only  two  miles,  and  yet  it  has  a  fall  of  twenty-five 
hundred  feet ;  but  the  remainder  of  its  course,  until  it  reaches 
the  Esopus,  is  calm  and  picturesque,  and  on  every  side,  and 
at  every  turn,  may  bo  seen  the  farm-houses  of  a  sturdy  yeo- 
manry. 

The  wild  gorge  or  dell  through  which  it  passes,  abounds  in 
waterfalls  of  surpassing  beauty,  varying  from  ten  to  a  hundred 
feet  in  height,  whose  rocks  are  green  with  the  moss  of  centu- 
ries, and  whose  brows  arc  evec  wreathed  with  the  most  exqui- 
site of  vines  and  flowers.  Here  is  the  Double  Leap,  with  its 
almost  fathomless  pool,  containing  a  hermit  trout  that  has 
laughed  nt  the  angler's  skill  for  a  score  of  years  ;  the  fall  of 
tho  Mountain  Spirit,  haunted,  as  it  is  said,  by  the  disembodied 
spirit  of  an  Indian  girl,  who  lost  her  life  hero  while  pursuing  a 
phantom  of  the  brain  ;  and  hero  is  tho  Blue-bell  Fall,  forever 
guarded  by  a  multitudinous  array  of  those  charming  flowers. 
Caverns,  too,  and  chasms  aro  here,  dark,  deep,  chilly,  and 
damp  ;  where  the  toad,  tho  lizard  and  snake,  and  strange  fa- 
milies of  insects,  are  perpetually  multiplying,  and  actually 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


I7y 


seeming  to  enjoy  their  loathsome  lives  ;  and  here  is  the  Black 
Chasm,  and  the  Devil's  Chamber,  the  latter  with  a  perpendi- 
cular wall  of  twice  the  height  of  old  Trinity,  and  with  a  wain- 
scoting of  pines  and  hemlocks  which  have  "  braved  a  thousand 
years  the  battle  and  the  breeze."  Plauterkill  Clove  is  an  eddy 
of  the  great  and  tumultuous  world,  and  in  itself  a  world  of  un- 
written poetry,  whose  primitive  loveliness  has  not  yet  been  dis- 
figured by  the  influence  of  Mammon.  It  has  been  consecrated 
by  a  brotherhood  of  friends,  well-tried  and  true,  to  the  pure 
religion  of  Nature  ;  and  after  spending  a  summer-day  therein, 
and  then  emerging  under  the  open  sky,  their  feelings  are 
always  allied  to  thoso  of  a  pilgrim  in  a  strange  land,  passing 
through  the  dreamy  twilight  of  an  old  cathedral. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  change  my  tune,  as  I  desire  to 
record  a  few  fishing  adventures  which  I  have  lately  experienced 
among  the  Catskills.  My  first  excursion  was  performed  along 
the  margin  of  Sweetwater  Brook,  which  flows  out  of  the  lake 
already  mentioned.  My  guide  and  companion  was  a  notorious 
huntei  of  this  region,  numcd  Peter  Hummel,  whose  services  I 
have  engaged  for  all  my  future  rambles  among  the  mountains. 
He  is,  decidedly,  one  of  the  wildest  and  rarest  characters  I 
have  ever  known,  and  would  bo  a  valuable  acquisition  to  a 
menagerie.  He  was  born  in  a  little  hut  at  the  foot  of  South 
Peak,  is  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  has  never  been  to 
school  a  day  in  his  life,  nor,  in  his  travels  towards  civilization, 
further  away  from  homo  than  fifteen  miles.  Ho  was  educated 
for  a  bark-gatherer,  his  father  and  several  brothers  having  al- 
ways been  in  the  business  ;  but  Peter  is  averse  to  common- 
place labor,  to  anything,  in  fact,  that  will  bring  money.  When 
a  boy  of  five  years,  he  had  an  inkling  for  the  mountains,  and 
once  had  wandered  so  far,  that  he  .was  found  by  his  father  in 
the  den  of  an  old  bear,  playing  with  her  cubs.  To  tramp 
among  the  mountains,  with  a  gun  and  dog,  is  Peter's  chief  and 
only  happiness.  Ho  is,  probably,  one  of  the  best  specimens  of 
a  hunter  now  living;  and  very  few,  I  fancy,  could  have  sur- 
vived the  dangers  to  which  ho  has  exposed  himself.  As  to  his* 
constitution,  ho  seoms  to  bo  ono  of  those  iron  mortals  who  never 


k 


m 


.".iiii 
!'  ^  ^  OT,™,,  ... , 

:1I 


180 


THE  CATSEILL  MOUNTAINS. 


«He  with  age  and  infirmity,  but  who  generally  meet  with  a  sud- 
den death,  as  if  to  recompense  them  for  their  heedlessness. 
But  with  all  his  wildness  and  recklessness,  Peter  Hummel  is  as 
amiable  and  kind-hearted  a  man  as  ever  breathed.  He  is  an 
original  wit  withal,  and  shrewd  and  very  laughable  are  many 
of  his  speeches,  and  his  stories  are  the  cream  of  romance  and 
genuine  mountain  poetry. 

But  to  my  story.  As  usual,  we  started  on  our  tramp  at  an 
early  hour,  he  with  a  trout-basket  in  his  hand,  containing  our 
dinner,  and  I  with  my  sketch-book  and  a  "  pilgrim  staff." 
After  a  tiresome  ascent  of  three  hours  up  the  side  of  a  moun- 
tain, over  ledges,  and  through  gloomy  ravines,  we  at  last  reached 
the  wished-for  brook.  All  the  day  long  were  we  cheered  by 
its  happy  song,  as  we  descended ;  now  leaping  from  ono  deep 
pool  to  another,  and  now  scrambling  over  green-coated  rocks, 
under  and  around  fallen  trees,  and  along  the  damp,  slippery 
sides  of  the  mountains,  until  wo  reached  its  mouth  on  a  plain, 
watered  by  a  charming  river,  and  sprinkled  with  the  rustic 
residences  of  the  Dutch  yeomanry.  We  were  at  homo  by. sun- 
set, having  walked  the  distance  of  twenty  miles,  and  captured 
one  hundred  and  fifty  trout,  the  most  of  which  wc  distributed 
among  the  farm-houses  in  our  way,  as  wo  returned.  The  trout 
were  quite  small,  varying  from  three  to  eight  ounces  in  weight, 
and  of  a  dark-brown  color. 

On  another  occasion,  I  had  taken  my  sketch-book  and  some 
fishing-tackle,  and  gone  up  a  mountain  road  to  the  banks  of 
Schoharie  Creek,  nominally  for  the  purpose  of  sketching  a  few 
trees.  In  the  very  first  hole  of  tho  stream  into  which  I  acci- 
dentally peered,  I  discovered  a  largo  trout,  lying  near  tho  bot- 
tom, just  above  a  littlo  bed  of  sand,  whence  rose  tho  bubbles  of 
a  spring.  For  some  thirty,  minutes  I  watched  the  follow  witli 
a  "yearning  tenderness,"  but  as  ho  appeared  to  bo  so  very 
happy,  and  I  was  in  a  kindred  mood,  I  thought  that  I  would  lot 
him  live.  Presently,  however,  a  beautiful  fiy  lighted  on  tlie 
water,  which  the  greedy  hermit  swallowed  in  a  minuto,  and 
returned  to  his  cool  bed,  with  his  conscience,  as  I  fancied,  not 
one  whit  troubled  by  what  ho  had  done.    Involuntarily  I  began 


THB  OATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


181 


to  unwind  my  line,  and  having  cit  a  pole,  and  repeated  to  my- 
self something  about  ''diamond  cut  diamond,"  I  whipped  on  a 
red  hackle,  and  passed  it  over  the  pool.  The  rogue  of  a  trout, 
however,  saw  me,  and  scorned  for  a  while  to  heed  my  line ;  but 
I  coaxed  and  coaxed  until,  at  last,  he  darted  for  it,  apparently 
out  of  mere  spite.  Something  similar  to  a  miniature  water- 
spout immediately  arose,  and  the  monarch  of  the  brook  was  in 
a  fair  way  of  sharing  the  same  fate  which  had  befallen  the  inno- 
cent fly.  I  learned  a  salutary  lesson  from  this  incident,  and 
as  I  had  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  the  brook,  I  shouldered 
my  sketch-book  with  a  strap,  and  descended  the  stream.  At 
noon,  I  reached  a  farm-house,  where  I  craved  something  to  eat. 
A  good  dinner  was  given  me,  which  was  seasoned  by  many 
questions,  and  some  information  concerning  trout.  That  after- 
noon, in  company  with  a  little  boy,  I  visited  a  neighboring 
stream,  called  the  Roaring  Kill,  where  I  caught  one  hundred 
and  sixty  fish.  I  then  returned  to  the  farm-house,  and  spent 
the  evening  in  conversation  with  my  new  acquaintances.  After 
breakfast,  on  the  following  morning,  I  set  out  for  home,  and 
reached  there  about  noon,  having  made  only  two  additions  to 
my  sketches.  Long  shall  I  remember  the  evening  spent  with 
this  family,  and  tlieir  hospitality  towards  an  entire  stranger. 
A  pleasant  family  was  that  night  added  to  my  list  of  friends. 

Another  of  my  trouting  pilgrimages  was  to  a  famous  place 
called  Stony  Clove,  among  the  mountains  of  Shandaken.  It 
is  a  deep  perpendicular  cut  or  gorge  between  two  mountains, 
two  tiiousand  feet  in  depth,  from  twenty  feet  to  four  hundred 
in  width,  and  completely  lined  from  base  to  summit  with  luxu- 
riant vegetation.  It  is  watered  by  a  narrow  but  deep  brook, 
which  is  so  full  of  trout  that  some  seven  hundred  were  captured 
by  myself  and  two  others  in  a  single  day.  When  I  tell  my 
readers  that  this  spot  is  only  about  one  hundred  miles  from  New 
York,  they  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  in  its  immediate 
vicinity  we  saw  no  less  than  two  bears,  one  doe  with  two  fawns, 
and  other  valuable  game.  In  som^  parts  of  this  clove  the  sun- 
shine never  enters,  and  whole  tons  of  the  purest  ice  may  be 
found  there  throughout  the  year.    It  is,  indeed,  a  most  lonely 


182 


THE  OATSEILL  MOUNTAINS. 


fj. 


0 


MM^ 


and  desolate  corner  of  the  world,  and  might  be  considered  a 
fitting  type  of  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ;  in  single  file 
did  we  have  to  pass  through  that  gorge,  and  in  single  file  do  the 
sons  of  men  pass  into  the  grave.  To  spend  one  day  there  we 
had  to  encamp  two  nights,  and  how  we  generally  manage  that 
affair  I  will  mention  presently. 

In  returning  from  Stony  Clove,  we  took  a  circuitous  route, 
and  visited  the  Mountain  House.  We  approached  it  .by  Avay 
of  the  celebrated  Catskill  Falls,  which  I  will  describe  in  the 
graphic  language  of  Cooper,  as  my  readers  may  not  remember 
the  passage  in  his  Pioneer.  "  Why,  there's  a  fall  in  the  hills, 
where  the  water  of  two  little  ponds,  that  lie  near  each  other, 
breaks  out  of  their  bounds,  and  runs  over  the  rocks  into  the 
valley.  The  stream  is,  may  be,  such  a  one  as  would  turn  a 
mill,  if  so  useless  a  thing  was  wanted  in  the  wilderness.  But 
the  hand  that  made  that  ^Leap^  never  made  a  mill!  Then  the 
water  comes  croaking  and  winding  among  the  rocks,  first  so 
slow  that  a  trout  might  swim  in  it,  and  then  starting  and  run- 
ning, like  any  creature  that  wanted  to  make  a  fair  spring,  till 
it  gets  to  where  the  mountain  divides,  like  the  cleft  foot  of  a 
deer,  leaving  a  deep  hollow  for  the  brook  to  tumble  into.  The 
first  pitch  is  nigh  two  hundred  feet,  and  the  water  looks  like 
flakes  of  snow  afore  it  touches  the  bottom,  and  then  gathers 
itself  together  again  for  a  new  start,  and,  may  be,  flutters  over 
fifty  feet  of  flat  rock,  before  it  falls  for  another  hundred  feet, 
Avhen  it  jumps  from  shelf  to  shelf,  first  running  this  way  and 
that  way,  striving  to  get  out  of  the  hollow,  till  it  finally  conies 
to  the  plain." 

Our  party,  on  this  occasion,  consisted  of  three — Peter  Hum- 
mel, a  bark-gatherer  and  myself.  I  had  chosen  these  fellows 
for  the  expedition,  because  of  their  friendship  for  me  and  their 
willingness  to  go;  and  I  resolved  to  give  them  a  "treat"  at  the 
"  Grand  Hotel,"  which  the  natives  of  this  region  look  upon  as 
a  kind  of  paradise.  You  are  aware,  I  suppose,  reader,  that  the 
Mountain  House  is  an  establishment  vieing  in  its  style  of  accom- 
modations with  the  best  of  hotels.  Between  it  and  the  Hudson 
there  is,  during  the  summer,  a  semi-daily  line  of  stages,  and  it 


THE  OATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


183 


is  the  transient  resort  pf  thousands,  -who  visit  it  for  the  novelty 
of  its  location  as  well  as  for  the  surrounding  scenery.  The 
edifice  itself  stands  on  a  cliff,  within  a  few  feet  of  the  edge,  and 
commands  a  prospect  extending  from  Long  Island  Sound  to  the 
White  Mountains.  The  first  time  I  visited  this  spot,  I  spent 
half  the  night  at  my  bed-room  window,  watching  the  fantastic 
performances  of  a  thunder-storm  far  below  me,  which  made  the 
building  tremble  like  a  ship  upon  a  reef,  while  the  sky  above 
was  cloudless,  and  studded  with  stars.  Between  this  spot  and 
South  Peak,  "  there's  the  High  Peak  and  the  Round  Top, 
which  lay  back,  like  a  father  and  mother  among  their  children, 
seeing  they  are  far  above  all  the  other  hills." 

But  to  proceed.  Coarsely  and  comically  Pressed  as  we  were, 
wo  made  a  very  unique  appearance  as  we  paraded  into  the 
office  of  the  hotel.  I  met  a  few  acquaintances  there,  to  whom 
I  introduced  my  comrades,  and  in  a  short  time  each  one  was 
spinning  a  iliountain  legend  to  a  crowd  of  delighted  listeners. 
In  due  time  I  ushered  tliem  into  the  dining-hall,  where  was 
enacted  a  scene  which  can  be  better  imagined  than  described ; 
the  fellows  were  completely  out  of  their  element,  and  it  was 
laughable  in  the  extreme,  to  see  them  stare  and  hear  them 
talk,  as  the  servants  bountifully  helped  them  to  the  turtle  soup, 
ice  cream,  charlotte  russe  and  ather  fashionable  dainties. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  commenced  descending 
the  beautiful  mountain-road  leading  towards  the  Hudson.  In 
the  morning  there  had  been  a  heavy  shower,  and  a  thousand 
happy  rills  attended  us  with  a  song.  A  delightful  nook  on  this 
road  is  pointed  out  as  the  identical  spot  where  Rip  Van  Winkle 
slept  away  a  score  of  his  life.  I  reached  home  in  time  to  spend 
the  twilight  hour  in  my  own  room,  musing  upon  the  much-loved 
mountains.  I  had  but  one  companion,  and  that  was  a  whip- 
poorwill,  which  nightly  comes  to  my  window-sill,  as  if  to  tell  me 
a  tale  of  its  love,  or  of  the  woods  and  solitary  wilderness. 

But  the  most  unique  and  interesting  of  my  fishing  adventures 
remains  to  be  described.  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  the 
good  fishing  afforded  by  the  lake  already  mentioned,  and  I  de- 
sired to  visit  it  and  spend  a  night  upon  its  shore.     Having 


!  A 


K\ 


m^' 


mmm 

Pw 

l»-^  M 

l^^Ri 

rV 

i^W 

ml  mi 

^YiWim  MS^ 

'feiiH 

ifrii 

11 

184 


TUE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


spoken  to  my  friend  Hummel,  and  invited  a  neighbor  to  accom- 
pany us,  whom  the  people  had  named  "  White  Yankee,"  the 
noontide  hour  of  a  pleasant  day  found  us  on  our  winding  march : 
and  such  a  grotesque  appearance  as  we  made  was  exceedingly 
amusing.  The  group  was  mostly  animated  when  climbing  the 
steep  and  rocky  ravines  which  we  were  compelled  to  pass 
through.  There  was  Peter,  "  long,  lank,  and  lean,"  and  wild 
in  his  attire  and  countenance  as  an  eagle  of  the  wilderness, 
with  an  axe  in  his  hand,  and  a  huge  knapsack  on  his  back, 
containing  our  provisions  'and  utensils  for  cooking.  Next  to 
him  followed  White  Yankee,  with  three  blankets  lashed  upon 
his  back,  a  slouched  white  hat  on  his  head,  and  nearly  half  a 
pound  of  tobacco «n  hi?  mouth.  Crooked-legged  withal,  and 
somewhat  sickly  was  this  individual,  and  being  wholly  unaccus- 
tomed to  this  kind  of  business,  he  werft  along  groaning,  grunt- 
ing, and  sweating,  as  if  he  was  "  sent  for  and  didn't  want  to 
come."  In  the  rear  tottered  along  your  humbhe  friend,  dear 
reader,  with  a  gun  upon  his  shoulder,  a  powder-horn  and  shot- 
pouch  at  his  side,  cowhide  boots  on  his  feet,  and  a  cap  on  his 
head,  his  beard  half  an  inch  long,  and  his  flowing  hair  stream- 
ing in  the  wind. 

We  reached  our  place  of  destination  about  five  o'clock,  and 
halted  under  a  large  impending  rock,  which  was  to  bo  our  sleep- 
ing place.  We  were  emphatically  under  the  "  shadow  of  a 
rock  in  a  weary  land."  Our  first  business  was  to  build  a  fire, 
which  we  did  with  about  one  cord  of  green  and  dry  wood. 
Eighty  poles  were  then  cut,  to  which  we  fastened  our  lines. 
The  old  canoe  in  the  lake  was  bailed  out,  and,  having  baited 
our  hooks  with  the  minnows  we  had  brought  with  us,  we  planted 
the  poles  in  about  seven  feet  water  all  around  the  lake  shore. 
Wo  then  prepared  and  ate  our  supper,  and  awaited  the  coming 
on  of  night.  During  this  interval  I  learned  from  Peter  the 
following  particulars  concerning  the  lake.  It  was  originally 
discovered  by  a  hunter  named  Shew.  It  is  estimated  to  cover 
about  fifty  acres,  and  in  the  centre  to  be  more  than  two  hun- 
dred feet  in  depth.  For  my  part,  however,  I  do  not  believe  it 
contains  over  five  acres,  though  the  mountains  which  tower  on 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


185 


every  side  but  one,  are  calculated  to  deceive  the  eye ;  but,  as  to 
its  depth,  I  could  easily  fancy  it  to  be  bottomless,  for  the  water 
is  remarkably  dark.  To  the  number  of  trout  in  this  lake  there 
seems  to  be  no  end.  It  is  supposed  they  reach  it,  when  small, 
through  Sweetwater  Brook,  when  they  increase,  in  size,  and 
multiply.  It  also  abounds  in  green  and  scarlet  lizards,  which 
are  a  serious  drawback  to  the  pleasures  of  the  fastidious  angler. 
I  asked  Peter  many  questions  concerning  his  adventures  about 
the  lake,  and  he  told  me  that  the  number  of  "  harmless  mur- 
ders" he  had  committed  here  was  about  three  hundred.  In  one 
day  he  shot  three  deer  ;  at  another  time  a  dozen  turkeys  ;  at 
another  twenty  ducks ;  one  night  an  old  bear ;  and  again  half- 
a-dozen  coons ;  and  on  one  occasion  annihilated  a  den  of  thirty- 
seven  rattlesnakes. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  lighted  a  torch,  and  went  to  examine  our 
lines ;  and  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  haul  out  not  less  than 
forty-one  trout,  weighing  from  one  to  two  pounds  a-piece. 
These  we  put  into  a  spring  of  very  cold  water,  which  bubbled 
from  the  earth  a  few  paces  from,  our  camping  place,  and  then 
retired  to  repose.  Branches  of  hemlock  constituted  our  couch, 
and  ray  station  was  between  Peter  and  White  Yankee.  Little 
did  I  dream,  when  I  first  saw  these  two  bipeds,  that  I  should 
ever  have  them  for  my  bed-fellows ;  but  who  can  tell  what  shall 
be  on  the  morrow  ?  My  friends  were  in  the  land  of  Nod  in 
less  than  a  dozen  minutes  after  we  had  retired ;  but  it  was 
difficult  for  me  to  go  to  sleep  in  the  midst  of  the  wild  scene 
which  surrounded  rac.  There  I  lay,  flat  on  my  back,  a  stone 
and  my  cap  for  a  pillow,  and  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  with  my 
nose  exposed  to  the  chilly  night  air.  And  what  pictures  did 
my  fancy  conjure  up,  as  I  looked  upon  the  army  ( f  trunks 
around  me,  glistening  in  the  firelight.  One  moment  they  were 
a  troop  of  Indians  from  the  spirit-land,  come  to  revisit  again 
the  hunting-grounds  of  their  fathers,  and  weeping  because  the 
white  man  had  desecrated  their  soil ;  and  again  I  fancied  them 
to  be  a  congress  of  wild  animals,  assembled  to  try,  execute, 
and  devour  us,  for  the  depredations  our  fellows  had  committed 
upon  their  kind  during  the  last  one  hundred  years.    By  and  by 


^ 


'1/ 


186 


THE  CATSKILL  MOUNTAINS. 


Mi'J 


mm 


4 


fek^l 

^^ 

mm 

Ifc: 

IHfcVUE|ll|||||IPa     ' 

mt^ 

a  star  peeped  out  upon  me  from  between  the  branches  of  a  tree, 
and  my  thoughts  ascended  heavenward.  And  now  my  eyes 
twinkled  and  blinked  in  sympathy  with  the  star,  and  I  was  a 
dreamer. 

An  hour  ^fter  the  witching  time  of  night,  I  was  startled 
from  my  sleep  by  a  bellowing  halloo  from  Peter,  who  said  it 
was  time  to  examine  the  lincj  again.  Had  you  heard  the  echoes 
which  were  then  awakened,  far  and  near,  you  would  have 
thought  yourself  in  enchanted  land.  But  there  were  living 
answers  to  that  shout,  for  a  frightened  fox  began  to  bark,  au 
owl  commenced  its  horrible  hooting,  a  partridge  its  drumming, 
and  a  wolf  its  howl.     There  was  not  a  breeze  stirring,  and 

"  Naught  was  seen  in  the  vault  on  high 

But  the  moon  and  the  stars  and  a  cloudless  sky, 
And  a  river  of  white  in  the  welkin  blue." 

Peter  and  Yankee  went  out  to  haul  in  the  trout,  but  I  remained 
on  shore  to  attempt  a  drawing,  by  moonlight,  of  the  lake  before 
me.  The  opposite  side  of  the  mountain,  with  its  dark  tangled 
forests,  was  perfectly  mirrored  in  the  waters  below,  the  whole 
seeming  as  solid  and  variegated  as  a  tablet  of  Egyptian  marble. 
The  canoe  with  its  inmates  noiselessly  pursued  its  way,  making 
the  stillness  more  profound.  In  the  water  at  my  feet  I  dis- 
tinctly saw  lizards  sporting  about,  and  I  could  not  but  wonder 
why  such  reptiles  were  ever  created.  I  thought  with  the  An- 
cient Mariner, 

• 

"  A  thuusaad  slimy  things  lived  on, 

And  so  did  I." 

Again  did  we  retire  to  rest,  slumbering  until  the  break  of 
day.  We  then  partook  of  a  substantial  trout  breakfast,  gathered 
up  our  plunder,  and  with  about  one  hundred  handsome  trout, 
started  for  home. 

The  accidents  we  met  with  during  the  night  were  harmless, 
though  somewhat  ridiculous.  A  paper  of  matches  which  Peter 
carried  in  his  breeches-pocket  took  fire,  and  gave  him  such  a 
Bcorchiag  that  he  beUowed  lustily ; — while  Yankee,  in  his  rest- 


THE  CATSEILL  MOUNTAINS. 


187 


less  slumbers,  rolled  so  near  our  'watchfire,  that  he  barely 
escaped  with  a  comer  of  his  blanket,  the  remainder  having  been 
consumed.  As  for  me  I  only  fell  into  the  water  among  the 
lizards,  while  endeavoring  to  reach  the  end  of  a  log  which  ex- 
tended into  the  lake.  In  descending  the  mountain  we  shot  three 
partridges,  and  confoundedly  frightened  a  fox,  and  by  the 
middle  of  tixe  afternoon  were  quietly  pursuing  our  several  avo- 
cations among  our  fellow  men  of  the  lower  world. 


!         '  '*.«.^ 


vW:i' 


A  SPRING  DAY. 


May  is  near  its  close,  and  I  am  j-fcill  in  the  valley  of  the 
Hudson.  Spring  is  indeed  come  again,  and  this,  for  the  pre- 
sent jenr,  has  heen  its  day  of  triumph.  The  moment  I  awoke, 
at  dawn,  this  morning,  I  knew  hy  intuition  that  it  would  he  so, 
and  I  bounded  from  my  couch  like  a  startled  deer,  impntient 
for  the  cool  delicious  air.  Spring  is  upon  the  earth  once  more, 
and  a  new  life  is  given  me  of  enjoyment  and  hope.  The  year 
is  in  its  childhood,  and  'sy  heart  clings  to  it  with  a  sympathy 
that  I  feel  must  be  immortal  and  divine.  What  I  have  done 
to-day  I  cannot  tell.  I  only  know  that  my  body  has  been  tre- 
mulous with  feeling,  and  my  eyes  almost  blinded  with  seeing. 
Every  hour  has  been  fraught  with  a  new  emotion  of  delight, 
and  presented  to  my  vision  numberless  pictures  of  surpassing 
beauty.  I  have  held  communion  with  the  sky,  the  mountains, 
the  'streams,  the  woods,  and  the  fields ;  and  these,  if  you  please, 
shall  be  the  themes  of  my  present  chapter. 

The  sky !  it  has  been  of  as  deep  an  azure  and  as  serene  as 
ever  canopied  the  world.  It  seemed  as  if  you  could  look  through 
it  into  the  illimitable  home  of  the  angels — could  almost  behold 
the  glory  which  surrounds  the  Invisible.  Three  clouds  alone 
have  attracted  my  attention.  One  was  the  offspring  of  the 
dawn,  and  encircled  by  a  rim  of  gold  ;  the  next  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  noon,  and  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  the  last,  of 
evening,  and  robed  in  deepest  crimson.  Wayward  and  coquet- 
tish creatures  were  these  clouds !  their  chief  ambition  seemed 
to  be  to  display  their  charms  to  the  best  advantage,  as  if  con- 
scious of  their  loveliness ;  and,  at  sunset,  when  the  light  lay 


A  SPRING  DAY. 


189 


pillowed  on  the  moantains,  it  was  a  joyoua  sight  to  see  them, 
side  hy  side,  like  three  sweet  sisters,  as  they  were,  going  home. 
Each  one  was  anxious  to  favor  the  world  with  its  own  last  smile, 
and  by  their  changing  places  so  often,  you  would  have  thought 
they  were  all  unwilling  to  depart.  But  they  were  the  ministers 
of  the  sun,  and  he  would  not  tarry  for  them ;  and  while  he 
beckoned  them  to  follow  on,  the  evening  star  took  his  station  in 
the  sky,  and  bade  them  depart ;  and  when  I  looked  again,  they 
were  gone.  Never  more,  thought  I,  will  those  clouds  be  a 
source  of  joy  to  a  human  heart.  And  in  this  respect,  also,  they 
setmed  to  me  to  be  the  emblems  of  those  beautiful  but  thought- 
less  maidens,  who  spend  the  flower  of  youth  trifling  with  the 
affections  of  all  whom  they  have  the  power  to  fascinate. 

The  mountains!  in  honor  of  the  season  which  has  just  clothc<l 
them  in  the  richest  green,  they  have,  this  day,  displayed  every 
one  of  their  varied  and  interesting  charms.  At  noon,  as  I  lay 
under  the  shadow  of  a  tree,  watching  them.  "  with  a  look  made  of 
all  sweet  acccrd,"  my  face  was  freshened  by  a  breeze.  It  ap- 
peared to  come  from  the  summit  of  South  Peak,  and  to  be  the 
voice  of  the  Gatskills.  I  listened,  and  these  were  the  words 
which  echoed  through  my  car. 

"  Of  all  the  seasons,  oh  Spring  !  thou  art  the  most  beloved, 
and,  to  us,  always  the  most  welcome.  Joy  and  gladness  ever 
attend  thy  coming,  for  we  know  that  the  '  winter  is  past,  the 
rains  are  over  and  gone,  the  time  of  the  singing  of  bird^  is 
come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land.'  And 
we  know,  too,  that  from  thy  hands  flow  unnumbered  blessings. 
Thou  softenest  the  earth,  that  the  husbandman  may  sow  his 
seed,  which  shall  yield  him  a  hundred  fold  at  the  harvest. 
Thou  releasest  the  rivers  from  their  icy  fetters,  that  the  wings 
of  commerce  may  bo  unfurled  once  more.  Thou  givest  food  to 
the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills,  that  they,  in  their  turn,  may 
furnish  man  with  necessary  food,  and  also  assist  him  in  his  do- 
mestic labors.  Thou  ooverest  tho  earth  with  a  garniture  of 
freshest  loveliness,  that  the  senses  of  man  may  be  gratified,  and 
his  thoughts  directed  to  Hjm  who  hath  created  all  things,  and 
pronounced  thorn  good.     And,  finally,  thou  art  tho  hope  of  the 


^1-^  .... 


190 


A  SPRING  DAT. 


^mm 


year,  and  thine  admonitions,  yrhicb  are  of  the  future,  have  a 
tendency  to  emancipate  the  thoughts  of  men  from  this  world, 
and  the  troubles  which  may  surround  him  here,  and  fix  them 
upon  that  clime  Avhere  an  everlasting  spring  abides."  "  The 
voice  in  my  dreaming  ear  melted  away,"  and  I  heard  the  roar- 
ing of  the  streams,  as  they  fretted  their  way  down  the  rocky 
steeps. 

The  streams !  such  "  trumpets"  as  they  have  blown  to-day 
would,  I  am  afraid,  have  caused  Mr.  Wordsworth  to  exclaim : 

"  The  cataracts — make  a  devilish  noise  up  yonder!" 

The  fact  is,  "  all  the  earth  is  gay,"  and  all  the  springs  among 
the  mountains  are  "  giving  themselves  up  to  jollity,"  the  streams 
are  full  to  overflowing,  and  rush  along  with  a  "  vindictive  loose- 
ness," because  of  the  burthen  they  have  to  bear.  The  falls 
and  cascades,  which  make  such  exquisite  pictures  in  the  summer 
months,  are  now  fearful  to  behold,  for,  in  their  anger,  every 
now  and  then  they  toss  some  giant  tree  into  an  abyss  of  foam, 
which  makes  one  tremble  with  fear.  But  after  the  sti*eams 
have  left  the  mountains,  and  are  running  through  the  bottom 
lands,  they  still  appear  to  be  displeased  with  something,  and  at 
every  turn  they  take,  delve  into  the  "  bowels  of  the  harmless 
earth,"  making  it  dangerous  for  the  angler  to  approach  too 
near,  but  rendering  the  haunt  of  the  trout  more  spacious  and 
commodious  than  before.  The  streams  are  about  the  only 
things  I  cannot  praise  to-day,  and  I  hope  it  will  not  rain  for  a 
month  to  come,  if  this  is  the  way  they  intend  to  act  whenever 
we  have  a  number  of  delightful  showers. 

The  woods  !  A  goodly  portion  of  the  day  have  I  spent  in 
one  of  their  most  secret  recesses.  I  went  with  Shakspeare  un- 
der my  arm ;  but  I  could  not  read  any  more  than  fly,  so  I 
stretched  myself  at  full  length  on  a  huge  log,  and  kept  a  sharp 
look-out  for  anything  that  might  send  rao  a  waking  dream. 
The  brotherhood  of  trees  clustered  around  me,  laden  with  leaves 
just  bursting  into  full  maturity,  and  possessing  that  delicate 
and  peculiar  green  which  lasts  but  a  single  day,  and  never  re- 
turns. A  fitful  breeze  swept  through  them,  so  that  ever  and 
anon  I  fancied  a  gushing  fountain  to  be  near,  or  that  a  compa- 


A  SPRING  DAT. 


191. 


ny  of  ladies  fair  were  come  to  visit  me,  and  that  I  heard  the 
rustle  of  their  silken  kirtles.     And  now  my  eyes  rested  on  a 
tree  that  was  entirely  leafless,  and  almost  without  a  limb.     In- 
stead of  grass  at  its  foot,  was  a  heap  of  dry  leaves,  and  not  a 
bush  or  vine  grew  anywhere  near  it ;  but  around  its  neighbors 
they  grew  in  great  abundance.     It  seemed  branded  with  a 
curse ;  alone,  forsaken  of  its  own,  and  despised  by  all.     Can 
this,  thought  I,  be  an  emblem  of  any  human  being  ?     Strange 
that  it  should  be,  but  it  is  nevertheless  too  true.     Only  one 
week  ago,  I  saw  a  poor  miserable  maniac,  bound  hand  and  foot, 
driven  from  "  home  and  all  its  treasures,"  and  carried  to  a  dark, 
damp  prison-house  in  a  neighboring  town.    I  can  be  reconciled 
to  the  mystery  af  a  poisonous  reptile's  existence;  but  it  is  very 
hard  to  underp'.and  for  what  good  purpose  a  maniac  is  created. 
Another  object  I  noticed,  was  a  little  tree  about  five  feet  high, 
completely  covered  with  blossoms  of  a  gaudy  hue.     At  fust,  I 
tried  to  gather  something  poetical  out  of  this  thing,  but  with 
all  my  endeavors  I  could  not.     It  caused  a  smile,  however, 
lis  the  idea  expanded,  for  it  reminded  me  of  a  certain  mai- 
den lady  of  'Tiy  acquaintance,  who  is  old,  stunted,  very  fond 
of  tall  men.  and,  always  strutting  among  her  fellows  under  a 
weight  0?  Jewelry.    But  oh !  what  beautiful  flowers  did  I  notice 
in  that  shady  grove,  whose  whispering  filled  me  with  delight ! 
Their  names?     I  cannot  tell  them  to  you,  fair  reader — they 
ought  not  to  have  any  names, — any  more  than  a  cloud,  or  a 
foam-bell  on  the  river.     Some  were  ■  blue,  some  white,  some 
purple,  and  some  scarlet.     There  were  little  parties  of  them  on 
every  side,  and  as  the  wind  swayed  their  delicate  stems,  I  could 
not  but'  fancy  they  were   living  creatures;  the  personified 
thoughts,  perhaps,  of  happy  and  innocent  children.     Occasion- 
ally, too,  I  noticed  a  sort  of  straggler  peeping  at  me  from  beside 
a  hillock  of  moss,  or  from  under  the  branches  of  a  fallen  tree, 
as  if  surprised  at  my  temerity  in  entering  its  secluded  haunt. 
Birds,  also,  were  around  me  in  that  green-wood  sanctuary, 
singing  their  hymns  of  praise  to  the  Father  of  Mercies  for  the 
return  of  spring.   The  nests  of  the  females  being  already  built, 
they  had  nothing  to  do  but  be  happy,  anticipating  the  time 
when  they  themselves  should  be  the  "  dealers-out  of  some  small 


s 

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£ 

Jk^-- 

4 

.192 


A  SPRING  DAT. 


^m 


Vj'ti 


m 


,      -I.l:.  ;;  til:  :  v:     _    _  . 


blessings"  to  their  helpless  broods.  As  to  their  mates,  they 
were  about  as  independent,  restless,  and  noisy  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, very  much  as  any  rational  man  would  be  who  was  the 
husband  of  a  young  and  beautiful  wife. 

But  the  open  fields  to-day  have  supcrabounded  with  pictures 
to  please  and  instruct  the  mind.  I  know  not  where  to  begin 
to  describe  them.  Shall  it  be  at  the  very  threshold  of  our  farm- 
house ?  "Well,  then,  only  look  at  those  lil:ic  trees  in  the  gar- 
den, actually  top-heavy  with  purple  and  white  flowering  pyra- 
mids. The  old  farmer  has  just  cut  a  number  of  largo  branches, 
and  given  them  to  his  little  daughter  to  carry  to  her  mother, 
who  will  distribute  them  between  the  mantlepiece,  the  table, 
and  the  fire-place  of  the  family  sitting-room.  But  what  am- 
brosial odor  is  that  which  now  salutes  the  senses !  It  conies  not 
from  the  variegated  corner  of  the  garden,  where  the  tulip,  the 
violet,  the  hyacinth,  the  bluebell  and  the  lily  of  the  valley  arc 
vying  to  outstrip  each  other  in  their  attire ;  nor  from  the  clo- 
ver-covered lawn,  besprinkled  with  buttercups,  strawberry 
blossoms,  and  honeysuckles,  but  from  the  orchard,  every  one 
of  whose  trees  arc  completely  covered  with  snow-white  blossoms. 
And  from  their  numberless  petals  emanates  the  murmur  of  bees 
as  they  are  busily  extracting  the  precious  honey.  What  an 
abundance  of  fruit — of  apples,  cherries,  peaches  and  pears,  do 
these  sweet  blossoms  promise !  But  next  week  there  viai/  be  a 
bitter /rofit ;  and  this  is  the  lesson  which  my  heart  learns.  Now 
that  I  am  in  the  spring-time  of  life,  my  hopes,  in  number  and 
beauty,  are  like  the  blossoms  of  trees,  and  I  know  not  but  that 
they  may  even  on  tlio  movow  be  withered  by  the  cliilly  breatli 
of  the  graw.  But  let  us  loiter  farther  on.  The  westrt-n  slope 
of  this  gentle  hill  is  equally  divided,  and  of  two  different  shadc^s 
of  green ;  one  is  planted  with  ryo  and  the  other  with  wheat. 
The  eastern  slope  of  the  hill  has  lately  been  loosened  by  the 
plough,  and  is  of  a  sombre  color,  but  to  my  eyes  not  less  pleas- 
ing than  tho  green.  And  this  view  is  enlivened  with  figures 
besides — for  a  farmer  and  two  boys  aro  planting  corn,  tho  lat- 
ter opening  the  beds  with  their  hoes  and  tho  former  dropping 
in  tho  seed  (which  ho  carries  in  a  bag  slung  at  his  side,)  and 
covering  it  with  his  foot.    And,  now,  fluttering  over  their 


A  SPRING  DAT. 


198 


heads  is  a  roguish  bobolink,  scolding  about  soifle  thing  in  their 
wahe  ;  at  a  respectful  distance,  and  hopping  along  the  ground, 
are  a  number  of  robbins,  and  on  the  nearest  fence  a  meadow- 
lark  and  bluebird  arc  "  holding  on  for  a  bite."  But  there  is 
no  end  to  these  rural  pictures,  so  I  will  just  take  my  reader 
into  this  neighboring  meadow-pasture,  thence  into  the  poultry- 
yard  at  home,  and  conclude  my  present  rhapsody. 

Here  we  are,  then,  in  the  midst  of  various  domestic  animals. 
Yonder  a  couple  of  black  colts  are  chasing  each  other  in  play, 
while  their  venerable  mother  (for  they  are  brothers,  though  not 
twins)  is  standing  a  little  way  off,  watching  their  antics,  and 
twisting  about  her  ears,  as  she  remembers  the  happy  days  of 
her  own  oolt-hood.  Here  are  some  half  dozen  hearty  cows, 
lying  down  and  grazing,  each  one  with  a  "  pledge  of  affection" 
sporting  about  her.  There  are  six  or  eight  oxen,  eating  away 
as  fast  as  they  can,  while  one  who  seems  to  be  a  sentinel,  occa- 
sionally rolls  up  his  eye  to  see  if  the  farmer  is  coming  to  renew 
his  song  of  "haw!  gee!  gee!  haw!"  Under  the  shadows  of 
that  old  oak  is  ar  flock  of  sheep,  with  their  lambs  bounding  be- 
side them,  as  to  the  *'  tnbor's  sound;"  but  to  me  there  comes  no 
"thought  of  grief"  at  t'lo  siglit,  wiicrein  I  must  be  suffered  to 
dispgree  with  Wordsworth,  to  whom  I  have  already  alluded 
oiice  or  twice,  and  whose  celebrated  Ode  has  been  echoing  in 
my  heart  all  the  day  long.  Some  of  the  lines  in  it  arc  appro- 
priate to  the  day,  the  charms  of  which  I  am  a  tempting  to  make 
you  feel,  reader,  and  you  will  oblige  mo  by  conning  and  in- 
wardly digesting  the  following  fragments  from  a  great  po-ui: — 

^ "  Tl>o  auiishino  is  a  glorious  birth." 


"  The  winds  come  to  rao  from  tho  fields  of  sleep." 


"  And  tho  babe  leaps  up  on  its  mother's  nnn." 


"  Earth  tills  her  lup  with  pleasures  of  her  own." 


18 


"  Full  soon  thy  soul  shall  iiuvo  her  earthly  freight, 
And  custom  lie  upon  thee  with  a 'Weight 
Heavy  us  tuie,  aud  deep  almost  as  life." 


mm 


£'\i 


J;;?  ■«•;.. '^ijj 


194 


A  SPRING  DAT. 

"O  joy,  that  in  our  embors 
Is  something  that  doth  live, 
That  nature  yet  remembers 
What  was  so  fugitive." 


"  To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blooms,  can  give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears." 

Strange,  that  a  man,  after  dwelling  upon  such  poetry,  ahould 
be  willing  to  go  into  a  jtjoitftry  yard.  But  why  not?  I  would 
rather  do  this  willingly  than  be  compelled,  as  I  have  been,  and 
may  be  again,  to  hear  a  man  say,  after  reading  to  him  Words- 
worth's Ode,  "Why!  of  what  use  ia  such  stuff?  what  does  it 
prove?  will  it  furnish  a  man  with  Jread  and  butter?  will  it 
make  the  pot  boil?"  The  people  of  the  poultry-yard  have  been 
in  such  a  glee  to-day,  and  contributed  so  much  to  the  gladness 
of  the  day,  that  I  must  pay  them  a  passing  tribute.  In  the 
first  place,  our  old  gobbler,  with  his  retinue  of  turkey  wives, 
has  been  at  the  point  of  bursting  with  pride  ever  since  sunrise. 
If  the  Grand  Sultan  of  Turkey,  (who  must  bo  the  father  of  all 
turkeys,)  cuts  the  same  kind  of  capers  in  the  presence  of  his 
hundred  ladies,  Turkey  must  be  a  great  country  for  lean  peo- 
ple to  "  laugh  and  grow  fat."  Our  gobbler  is  a  feathered  per- 
sonification of  Jack  Falstaff,  possessing  his  prominent  trait  of 
cowardice  to  perfection.  I  fiourishcd  a  red  handkerchief  in 
his  face  this  morning,  and,  by  the  way  ho  strutted  round 
and  gobbled,  you  would  have  thought  he  was  going  to  devour 
you.  About  ten  minutes  after  this,  1  threw  down  a  handful  of 
corn,  which  was  intended  for  his  particular  palate.  While  he 
was  busy  picking  it  up,  a  certain  cock  stepped  alongside,  and 
commenced  picking  too.  The  intruder,  having  got  in  the  way 
of  tho  gobbler,  was  suddenly  pushed  aside;  whereupon  the 
gentleman  with  spurs  chuckled  and  "showed  fight;"  but  the 
gobbler  for  a  moment  heeded  him  not.  This  tho  cock  could 
not  bear,  so  ho  pounced  upon  his  enemy,  and  whipped  hiru 
without  mercy,  unlil  tho  coward  and  fool  ran  away,  with  his 
long  train  of  aifcctionato  wives  following 'behind. 

Tho  cooks,  hens  and  ohiokona  which  have  figured  in  tho  yard 


A  SPRING  DAT. 


195 


to-day,  would  more  than  number  a  hundred ;  and  such  cackling, 
crowing,  chuckling,  and  crying  as  they  have  made,  was  any- 
thing but  a  "  concord  of  sweet  sounds."  But  the  creatures 
have  been  happy,  and  it  was  therefore  a  pleasure  to  look  at 
them.  A  young  hen,  this  morning,  made  her  first  appearance 
with  a  large  brood  of  chickens,  yellow  as  gold,  and  this  caused 
quite  a  sensation  among  the  feathered  husbands  generally. 
The  mother,  as  she  rambled  about,  seemed  to  say,  by  her  pom- 
pous air,  to  her  daughtcrless  friends — "  Ar'n't  they  beautiful  ? 
don't  you  wish  you  had  a  few  ?"  It  was  also  very  funny  to  see 
with  what  looks  of  astonishment  the  youthful  cocks  surveyed 
these  "  infant  phenomenons."  As  to  our  ducks,  and  geese,  and 
guinea-hens,  they  have  minded  their  business  very  well — the 
two  former  paddling  about  the  creek  and  mud-puddles,  and  the 
latter,  "between  meals,"  roaming  at  largo  through  the  orchard 
and  garden,  altogether  the  most  beautiful  and  rational  of  the 
feathered  tribes. 

A  mountaineer,  who  is  to  take  this  queer  record  to  the  post- 
office,  is  waiting  for  mo  below,  and  I  must  close, — hoping  that 
the  country  pictures  I  have  endeavored  to  sketch,  may  have  a 
tendency  to  make  you  feel  a  portion  of  that  joy  which  has  cha- 
racterized this  delightful  Spring  Day. 


if  ^  '»•*-. 


fhiSW'' 


^ 


h'r4-^^f*t 


THE   CORN  PLANTING  BEE. 


The  people  who  inhabit  that  section  of  country  lying  between 
the  Catskill  Mountains  and  the  Hudson  River,  are  undoubtedly 
the  legitimate  descendants  of  the  far-famed  Rip  Van  Winkle. 
Dutch  blood  floweth  in  their  veins,  and  their  names,  appearance, 
manners,  arc  all  Dutch,  and  Dutch  only.  The  majority  of  them 
are  engaged  in  tilling  the  soil,  and  as  they  seem  to  be  satisfied 
with  a  bare  competency,^  the  peacefulness  of  their  lives  is  only 
equalled  by  their  ignorance  of  books  and  the  world  at  large. 
The  height  of  their  ambition  is  to  enjoy  a  frolic,  and  what 
civilized  people  understand  by  that  term,  they  designate  a  Bee, 
Not  only  have  they  their  weeding  and  funeral  boes,  but  they 
commemorate  their  agricultural  labors  with  a  bee,  and  of  these 
the  corn  planting  bee,  which  I  am  about  to  describe,  is  a  spe- 
cimen. 

A  certain  old  Dutchman  f  my  acquaintance  had  so  long 
neglected  the  field  where  ho  intended  to  plant  his  corn,  that  he 
found  it  necessary  to  retrieve  his  reputation  by  getting  up  a 
bee.  He  therefore  immediately  issued  his  Invitations,  and  at 
two  o'clock  on  the  appointed  day,  about  seventy  of  his  neigh- 
bors, including  men  and  Avomen,  made  their  appearance  at  his 
dwelling,  cacli  one  of  them  furnished  with  a  hoe  and  a  small 
bag  to  carry  the  seed.  After  supplying  hia  guests  with  all  they 
wanted  in  the  way  of  spiritual  drink,  my  friend  gave  the  signal, 
and  shouldering  a  largo  hoe,  started  off  for  the  field  of  action, 
closely  followed  by  his  neighbors,  who  feU  to  work  quite  lustily. 
Tho  field  was  larj^o,  but  as  the  laborers  "vero  numerous,  it  was 
entirely  planted  at  least  two  hours  before  sunset,  when  tho 


THE  CORN  PLANTING  BEE. 


197 


party  was  disbanded,  with  the  express  understanding  resting 
upon  their  minds  that  "they  should  invite  their  children  to  the 
dance,  which  was  to  take  place  in  the  evening  at  the  bee-giver's 
residence. 

The  house  of  my  farmer  friend  having  been  originally  built 
for  a  tavern,  it  happened  to  contain  a  large  ball-room,  and  on 
this  occasion  it  was  stripped  of  its  beds  {ind  bedding,  and  the 
walls  thereof  decked  from  top  to  bottom  with  green  br<anches 
and  an  occasional  tallow  candle,  and  conspicuous  at  one  end  of 
the  hall  was  a  refreshment  establishment,  well  supplied  with 
pies,  gingerbread,  molasses  candy  and  segars,  and  with  an 
abundance  of  colored  aloolioh.  The  number  of  young  men  and 
women  who  came  together  on  this  occasion  was  about  one  hun- 
dred, and  while  they  were  trimming  for  the  approaching  dance, 
the  musician,  a  long-legged,  huge  and  bony  Dutcliran,  was 
tuning  a  rust}'  fiddle.  The  thirty  minutes  occupied  by  him  in 
this  interesting  uusiness  wera  employed  by  the  male  portion  of 
the  guests  in  "  wetting  their  whistles."  The  dresses  worn  on 
this  occasion  were  eminently  rustic  and  unique.  There  ^-f  the 
gentlemen,  for  the  most  part,  were  made  of  coarse  gray  cloth, 
eirailar  to  that  worn  by  the  residents  on  Blackwell's  Island, 
while  the  ladies  were  arrayed  in  white  cotton  dresses,  trimmed 
with  scarlet  ribbon.  Pumps  being  out  of  vogue,  cowhide  boots 
were  worn  by  the  former  and  calf  brogans  by  the  latter. 

All  things  being  now  ready,  a  terribly  loud  screech  came 
from  the  poor  little  fiddle,  and  the  clattering  of  heels  ccm- 
menccd,  shaking  the  building  to  its  very  foundation.  "  On  with 
the  dance,  let  joy  bo  unconfined,"  seem"'  to  be  the  motto  of 
all  present,  and  from  the  start,  there  seemed  to  bo  a  strife  be- 
tween the  male  and  female  dancers  as  to  who  should  leap  the 
highest  and  make  tho  most  noise.  Desperate  were  the  efforl 
of  the  musician,  as  ho  toiled  away  upon  his  instrument,  keep- 
ing discord \s\i\\  his  heels;  and  every  unusual  wail  of  the  fiddle 
was  the  forerunner  of  a  shower  of  sweat,  which  camo  rolling 
off  the  fiddler's  faco  to  tho  floor.  And  then  tho  joyous  delirium 
of  the  musician  was  communicated  to  tho  dancers,  and  as  tho 
dance  proceeded,  thoir  eflbrbs  became  still  more  desperate ;  the 


W* 


198 


THE  CORN  PLANTINO  BEE. 


mnm 


W' 


women  •wildly  threw  '^ack  their  hair,  and  many  of  the  men  took 
off  their  coats,  and  rolled  up  their  shirt  sleeves,  for  the  purpose 
of  keeping  cool.  In  spite  of  every  effort,  however,  the  faces 
of  the  dancers  became  quite  red  with  the  rare  excitement,  and 
the  hall  was  filled  with  a  kind  of  heated  fog,  in  which  the  first 
•'  breakdown"  of  the  evening  concluded. 

Then  followed  the  refreshment  scene.  The  men  drank  whisky 
and  smoked  segars,  while  the  women  feasted  on  mince  pies, 
drank  small  beer,  and ,  sucked  molasses  candy.  Some  of  the 
smaller  men  or  boys,  who  were  too  lazy  to  dance,  saoaked  ofiF 
into  an  out-of-the-way  room,  for  tho  purpose  of  pitching  pen- 
nies, while  a  few  couples,  who  were  victims  to  the  tender  pas- 
sion, retired  to  some  coscy  nook  to  bask  unobserved  in  each 
other's  smiles. 

But  now  the  screeching  fiddle  is  again  heard  above  the  mur- 
mur of  talking  and  laughing  voices,  and  another  rush  is  made 
for  the  sanded  floor.  Another  dance  is  then  enjoyed,  differing 
from  the  one  already  described  only  in  its  increased  extrava- 
gance. After  sawing  away  for  a  long  time,  as  if  for  dear  life, 
the  musician  is  politely  requested  to  play  a  new  tune.  Promptly 
do'es  he  assent  to  the  proposition ;  but  having  started  on  a  fresh 
key,  he  soon  falls  into  the  identical  strain  which  had  kept  him 
busy  for  the  previous  hour ;  so  that  the  philosophic  listener  id 
compched  to  conclude  either  that  tho  fiddler  ciiunot  play  more 
than  one  tune,  or  that  he  has  a  particular  passion  for  the  mon- 
otonous and  nameless  one  to  which  ho  so  cloi-ely  clings.  And 
thus  with  many  indescribable  variations  does  the  ball  continue 
throi  ghout  the  entire  night. 

I  cid  not  venture  to  trip  tho  "light  fantastic  toe"  on  the  oc- 
casior.  in  question,  but  my  enjoyment  as  a  calm  spectator  was 
very  anusing  and  decidedly  original.  Never  before  had  I  seen 
a  great  ^r  amount  of  labor  performed  by  men  and  women  in  tho 
same  time.  I  left  this  interesting  assembly  about  midnight, 
fully  satisfied  with  what  I  had  seen  and  heard,  but  I  was  after- 
wards told  that  I  missed  more  than  "  half  tho  fun." 

When  the  music  was  loudest,  so  it  appc  irs,  and  tho  frenzy 
of  tho  dance  at  its  climax,  a  select  party  of  Dutch  gentlemen 


fS^*^W»-^»l.n^.' 


THE  CORN  PLANTING  BBB. 


199 


were  sudc.enly  seized  with  an  appetite  for  some  more  substan- 
tial food  than  any  that  had  yet  been  given  them.  They  held  a 
consultation  on  the  important  subject,  and  finally  agreed  to 
ransack  the  garret  and  cellar  of  their  host  for  the  purpose  of 
satisfying  their  natural  desires.  In  the  former  place  they  found 
a  good  supply  of  dried  beef,  and  in  the  latter,  a  few  loaves  of 
bread  and  a  jar  of  rich  cream,  upon  which  they  regaled  them- 
selves without  favor,  but  with  some  fear.  The  giver  of  the  bee 
subsequently  discovered  what  had  been  done,  and  though  some- 
what more  than  "  three  sheets  in  the  wind,"  slyly  sent  for  a 
pair  of  constables,  who  soon  made  their  appearance,  and  ar- 
rested the  thieving  guests,  who  were  held  to  bail  in  the  sum  of 
fifty  dollars  each.  I  was  also  informed  that  the  dance  was  kept 
up  until  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  that  the  appearance  of 
my  friend's  establishment  and  the  condition  of  his  guests  at 
seven  o'clock  were  ridiculous  in  the  extreme.  A  jmall  propor- 
tion of  the  bee-party  only  had  succeeded  in  starting  for  home, 
80  that  the  number  who  from  excess  of  drinking  and  undue 
fatigue  had  retired  to  repose,  was  not  far  from  three  score  and 
ten.  The  sleeping  accommodations  of  the  host  were  limited, 
and  the  consequence  was  that  his  guests  had  to  shift  for  them- 
selves as  they  best  coi'ld.  The  floors  of  every  room  in  the 
house,  including  the  partries,  were  literally  covered  with  men 
and  women, — some  of  them  moaning  with  a  severe  headache, 
some  breathing  audibly  ii\  a  deep  sleep,  and  others  snoring  in 
tho  loudest  and  most  approved  style.  By  twelve  o'clock  the 
interesting  company  had  stolen  off  to  their  several  homes,  and 
the  corn  planting  bee,  among  the  Catskills,  was  at  an  end. 


M-^ 


»';^^::%,jas* 


LAKE   IIORICON. 


IS  somew 


m.m 


p^ 

IB 

B-'h:!)^ 

ll^W^' 

ii 

ipl' 

11 

H. 

:imB^: 


If  circumstances  alone  could  make  one  poetical,  then  might 
you  expect  from  mo,  on  tliis  occasion,  a  paper  of  rare  excel- 
lence and  beauty.  My  sketch-book  is  my  desk ;  my  canopy 
from  the  sunshine,  an  elm  tree  ;  the  carpet  under  my  feet,  a 
rich  green  sprinkled  with  flowers;  the  music  in  my  car  of  sing- 
ing birds ;  and  the  prospect  before  me,  north,  east,  and  south, 
the  tranquil  bosom  of  Lake  George,  with  its  islands  and  sur- 
rounding mountains ;  whoso  waters,  directly  at  my  side,  are 
alive  with  many  kinds  of  fish,  sporting  together  on  a  bed  of 
sand.  Yes,  the  far-famed  Lake  George  is  my  subject ;  but  in 
what  I  write,  I  shall  not  use  that  title, — for  I  do  not  like  the 
idea  of  christening  what  belongs  to  ns  with  the  name  of  an 
English  monarch,  however  much  his  memory  deserves  to  be  re- 
spected. Shall  it  be  Lake  St.  Sacrament,  then  ?  No !  for  that 
was  given  to  it  by  the  Pope,  and  the  French  nation.  Horicon 
— a  musical  and  appropriate  Avord,  meaning  pure  water,  and 
given  to  it  by  the  poor  Indian — is  the  name  which  rightfully 
belongs  to  the  lako  which  is  now  my  theme. 

Lake  Iloricon  is  one  of  the  few  objects  in  Nature  which  did 
not  disappoint  me  after  reading  the  descriptions  of  travellers. 
I  verily  believe  that,  in  point  of  mere  beauty,  it  hi'.s  not  its 
superior  in  the  world.  Its  length  is  thirty-four  miles,  and  its 
width  from  two  to  four.  Its  islands  number  about  three  hun- 
dred, and  vary  from  ten  feet  to  a  mile  in  length  ; — a  great 
many  of  them  are  located  in  the  centre  of  the  lake,  Vt  a  place 
called  the  Narrows.  It  is  completely  surrounded  with  moun- 
tains ;  the  most  prominent  of  whioh  are,  Black  Mountaio,  ou 


LAKE  HORICON. 


201 


the  east  of  the  Narrows,  Tongue  Mountain,  directly  opposite, 
and  French  Mountain,  at  the  southern  extremity.  The  first  is 
the  most  lofty,  and  remarkable  for  its  wildness,  and  the  superb 
prospect  therefrom ;  the  second  is  also  wild  and  uninhabited, 
but  distinguished  for  its  dens  of  rattlesnakes  ;  and  the  latter 
is  somewhat  cultivatec,  but  memorable  for  having  been  the 
camping-ground  of  the  French  during  the  Revolutionary  War. 
The  whole  eastern  border  is  yet  a  comparative  wilderness ;  but 
along  the  western  shore  are  some  respectable  farms,  and  a  good 
coach-road  from  Caldwell  to  Ticonderoga,  which  affords  many 
admirable  views  of  the  sky-blue  lake.  There  are  three  public 
houses  here  which  I  can  recommend :  the  Lake  House,  for  those 
who  are  fond  of  elegance  and  company — Lyman's  Tavern,  for 
the  hunter  of  scenery  and  lover  of  quiet — and  Garucld's  House, 
for  the  fisherman.  A  nice  little  sfoamboat,  commanded  by  a 
gentleman,  passes  through  every  morning  and  evening,  (except- 
ing Sundays,)  and  though  a  convenient  affair  to  the  traveller,  it 
is  an  eyesore  to  the  admirer  of  the  wilderness.  Identified  with 
this  boat  is  an  eccentric  and  amiable  man,  named  Old  Dick,  who 
amuses  the  tourist,  and  collects  an  occasional  shilling  by  exhibit- 
ing a  number  of  rattlesnakes.  When,  in  addition  to  all  these 
things,  it  is  remembered  that  Horicon  is  the  centre  of  a  region 
made  classic  by  the  exploits  of  civilized  and  savage  warfare,  it 
can  safely  be  pronounced  one  of  the  most  interesting  portions 
of  our  country  for  the  summer  tourist  to  visit.  I  have  looked 
upon  it  from  many  a  peak  whence  might  be  seen  almost  every 
rood  of  its  shore.  I  have  sailed  into  every  one  of  its  bays, 
and,  like  the  pearl-diver,  have  repeatedly  descended  into  its 
cold  blue  chambers,  so  that  I  have  learned  to  love  it  as  a  faith- 
ful and  well-tried  friend.  Since  tlie  day  of  my  arrival  here,  I 
have  kept  a  journal  of  iny  adventures,  and,  as  a  momorial  of 
Horicon,  I  will  extract  therefrom,  and  embody  in  this  chapter 
the  following  passages. 


Six  pencil  sketches  have  I  executed  upon  the  lake  to-day. 
One  of  them  wiis  a  view  of  the  distant  mountains,  the  various 
outlines  of  which  vrere  ooncontrated  at  one  point,  and  the  color 


Ml 


202 


LAHE  HORICON. 


was  of  that  delicate,  dreamy  blue,  created  by  a  snnlight  at- 
mosphere, with  the  sun  directly  in  front.  In  the  middle  dis- 
tance was  a  flock  of  islands,  with  a  sail-boat  in  their  midst,  and 
in  the  foreground  a  cluster  of  rocks,  surmounted  by  a  single 
cedar,  which  appeared  like  the  sentinel  of  a  fortress.  Another 
sketch  was  of  the  ruins  of  Fort  George,  with  a  background  of 
dark-green  mountains,  made  quite  desolate  by  a  flock  of  sheep 
sleeping  in  one  of  its  shady  moats.  Another  was  of  a  rowing-race 
between  two  rival  fishermen,  at  the  time  when  they  were  only 
a  doaen  rods  from  the  goal,  and  when  every  nerve  of  their 
aged  frames  ^ '»?  strained  to  the  utmost.  Another  was  of  a 
neat  log-cabin,  on  a  quiet  lawn  near  the  water,  at  whose 
threshold  a  couple  of  ragged,  but  beautiful  children  were  play- 
ing with  a  large  dog,  while  from  the  chimney  of  the  house 
ascended  the  blue  smoke  with  unnumbered  fantastic  evolutions. 
Another  was  of  a  huge  pine  tree,  which  towered  conspicuously 
above  its  kindred  on  the  mountain  side,  and«  seeme*'  to  me  an 
appropriate  symbol  of  Webster  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  concourse 
of  his  fellow-men.  And  the  last  was  of  a  thunder-storm,  driven 
away  from  the  mountain-top  by  the  mild  radiance  of  a  rainbow, 
which  partly  encircled  Horicon  in  a  loving  embrace. 


I  have  been  fishing  to-day,  and,  while  enduring  some  poor 
sport,  indited  in  my  mind  the  following  information,  for  the 
benefit  of  my  piscatorial  friends.  The  days  of  trout-fishing  in 
Lake  Horicon  are  nearly  at  an  end.  A  few  years  ago,  it 
abounded  in  salmon-trout,  which  were  frequently  caught  weigh- 
ing twenty  pounds.  But  their  average  weight,  at  the  present 
time,  is  not  more  than  one  pound  and  a  half,  and  they  are 
scarce  even  at  that.  In  taking  them,  you  first  have  to  obtain 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  sapling-bark  to  reach  the  bottom  in 
sixty  feet  of  water,  to  one  end  of  which  must  bo  fastened  a 
stone,  and  to  the  other  a  stick  of  wood,  which  designates  your 
fishing-ground  and  is  called  a  buoy.  A  variety  of  more  com- 
mon fish  are  then  caught,  such  as  suckers,  perch,  and  eels, 
which  are  cut  up  and  deposited,  some  half  peck  at  a  time,  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  buoy.    In  a  few  days  the  trout  will  begin  to 


m  , 


LAKE  nORICON. 


208 


assemble,  and  so  long  as  you  keep  them  well  fed,  a  brace  of 
them  may  be  captured  at  any  time  during  the  summer.  But 
the  fact  is,  this  is  only  another  way  for  "  paying  too  dear  for 
the  whistle."  The  best  angling,  after  all,  is  for  the  common 
brook  trout,  which  is  a  bolder  biting  fish,  and  better  for  the 
tabic  than  the  salmon  trout.  The  cause  of  the  great  decrease 
in  the  large  troi't  of  this  lake,  is  this  : — in  tho  autumn,  when 
they  have  sought  tho  shores  for  the  purpose  of  spawning,  the 
neighboring  barbarians  have  been  accustomed  to  spear  them  by 
torch-light ;  and  if  tho  heartless  business  do<^s  not  soon  cease, 
the  result  will  be,  that  in  a  few  years  they  will  be  extinct. 
There  are  two  other  kinds  of  trout  in  the  lake,  however,  which 
yet  afford  good  sport, — the  silver  trout,  caught  in  the  summer, 
and  tho  fall  trout.  But  the  black  bass,  upon  the  whole,  is  now 
mostly  valued  by  the  fisherman.  They  arc  in  their  prime  in 
the  summer  months.  They  vary  from  one  to  five  pounds  in 
weight ;  are  taken  by  trolling,  and  with  a  drop-line,  and  afford 
fine  sport.  Their  haunts  arc  along  the  rocky  shores,  and  it  is 
often  the  case,  that  on  a  still  day  you  may  see  them  from  your 
boat,  swimming  about  in  herds  where  the  water  is  twenty  feet 
deep.  They  have  a  queer  fashion,  when  hooked,  of  leaping 
out  of  the  water,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  clear,  and  it  is  sel- 
dom that  a  novice  in  the  gentle  art  can  keep  them  from  suc- 
ceeding. But,  alas  !  their  numbers  also  are  fast  diminishing, 
by  the  same  means  and  the  same  hands  that  have  killed  the 
trout.  My  advice  to  those  who  come  here  exclusively  for  the 
purpose  of  fishing  is,  to  continue  their  journey  to  the  sources 
of  the  Hudson,  Scaroon  Lake,  Long  Lake,  and  Lake  Pleasant ; 
in  whose  several  waters  there  seems  to  be  no  end  to  every  va- 
riety of  trout,  and  whore  may  bo  found  much  wild  and  beauti- 
ful scenery.  The  angler  of  the  present  day  will  be  disappointed 
in  Lake  Iloricon. 


When  issuing  from  the  Narrows,  on  your  way  down  the 
Horicon,  the  most  attractive  object,  next  to  the  mountains,  is 
a  strip  of  low,  sandy  land,  extending  into  the  lake,  called  Sab- 
bath-day Point.    It  was  so  christened  by  Abercrombie,  who 


i-  ml 


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■mi''- 


204 


LAKE  HORICON. 


encamped  and  spent  the  Sabbath  there,  when  on  his  iray  to 
Ticonderoga,  where  he  was  so  sadly  defeated.  I  look  upon  it 
as  one  of  the  most  enchanting  places  in  the  world ;  but  the 
pageant  with  which  it  is  associated  was  not  only  enchanting 
and  beautiful,  but  magnificent.  Only  look  upon  the  picture. 
It  is  the  sunset  hour,  and  before  us,  far  up  in  the  upper  air, 
and  companion  of  the  evening  star,  and  a  host  of  glowing 
clouds,  rises  the  majestic  form  of  Black  Mountain,  enveloped 
in  a  mantle  of  rosy  atmosphere.  The  bosom  of  the  lake  is 
without  a  ripple,  and  every  cliff,  ravine,  and  island  has  its 
counterpart  in  the  pure  waters.  A  blast  of  martial  music  from 
drums,  fifes,  bagpipes,  and  bugle  horns  now  falls  upon  the  ear, 
and  the  immense  procession  comes  in  sight ;  one  thousand  and 
thirty-five  battcaux,  containing  an  army  of  seventeen  thousand 
souls,  headed  by  the  brave  Abcrcrombic  and  the  red  cross  of 
England, — the  scarlet  uniforms  and  glistening  bayonets  form- 
ing a  line  of  light  against  the  darker  background  of  the  moun- 
tain. And  behind  a  log  in  the  foreground  is  a  crouching  Indian 
runner,  who,  with  the  speed  of  a  hawk,  will  carry  the  tidings 
to  the  French  nation,  that  an  army  is  coming — "  numerous  as 
the  leaves  upon  the  trees."  Far  from  the  strange  scene  fly  the 
affrighted  denizens  of  mountain  and  wave, — while  thousands  of 
human  hearts  are  beating  happily  at  the  prospect  of  victory, 
whose  bodies  in  a  few  hours,  will  be  food  for  the  raven  on  the 
plains  of  Ticonderoga. 

A  goodly  portion  of  tliis  day  have  I  been  musing  upon  the 
olden  times,  while  rambling  about  Fort  George,  and  Fort  Wil- 
liam Henry.  Long  and  with  peculiar  interest  did  I  linger  about 
the  spot  near  the  latter,  where  were  cruelly  massacred  the  fol- 
lowers of  Monroe,  at  whlcli  time  Montcalm  linked  his  name  to 
the  title  of  a  heartless  Frenchman,  and  the  name  of  Webb  be- 
came identified  with  all  that  is  justly  despised  by  the  human 
heart.  I  profess  myself  to  be  an  enemy  to  wrong  and  outrage 
of  every  kind,  and  yet  a  lover  and  defender  of  the  Indian  race; 
but  when  I  picked  up  one  after  another  the  flinty  heads  of  ar- 
rows, which  were  mementoes  of  an  awful  butchery,  my  spirit 


LAKE  HORICON. 


205 


revolted  against  the  red  man,  and  for  a  moment  I  felt  a  desire 
to  condemn  him.  Yes,  I  will  condemn  that  particular  band  of 
murderers,  but  I  cannot  but  defend  the  race.  Cruel  and  treach- 
erous they  were,  I  will  allow,  but  do  we  not  forget  the  treat- 
ment they  ever  met  with  from  the  white  man?  The  most 
righteous  of  battles  have  ever  been  fought  for  the  sake  of  sires 
and  wives  and  children,  and  for  what  else  did  the  poor  Indian 
fight,  when  driven  from  the  home  of  his  youth  into  an  unknown 
wilderness,  to  become  thereafter  a  by-word  and  a  reproach 
among  the  nations  ?  "  Indians,"  said  we,  "  we  would  have  your 
lands,  and  if  you  will  not  bo  satisfied  with  tho  gewgaws  we 
proffer,  our  powder  and  balls  will  teach  you  that  power  is  but 
another  name  for  right."  And  this  is  the  principle  that  has 
guided  the  white  man  ever  since  in  his  warfare  against  the  abo- 
rigines-of  our  tT'intry.  I  cannot  believe  that  we  shall  ever  be 
a  happy  and  prosperous  people  until  the  King  of  kings  shall 
have  forgiven  us  for  having,  with  a  yoke  of  tyranny,  almost 
annihilated  an  hundred  nations. 


A  portion  of  this  afternoon  I  whilcd  away  on  a  little  island, 
which  attracted  my  attention  by  its  charming  variety  of  foliage. 
It  is  not  more  than  one  hundred  feet  across  at  the  widest  part, 
and  is  encircled  by  a  yellow  sand-bank,  and  shielded  by  a  regi- 
ment of  variegated  rocks.  But  what  could  I  find  there  to  in- 
terest me,  it  may  be  inquired.  This  island,  hidden  in  one  of 
the  bays  of  Iloricon,  is  an  insect  city,  and  more  populous  than 
was  Rome  in  the  days  of  her  glory.  There  tho  honey-bee  has 
his  oaken  tower,  the  wasp  and  humble-bee  their  grassy  nests, 
the  spiacr  his  den,  the  butterfly  his  hammock,  the  grasshopper 
his  domain,  tho  beetle  and  cricket  and  hornet  their  decayed 
stump,  and  the  toiling  ant  her  palace  of  sand.  There  they 
were  born,  there  they  flourish  and  multiply,  and  there  they  die, 
symbolizing  the  career  and  destiny  of  man.  I  was  a  "  distin- 
guished stranger"  in  that  city,  and  I  must  confess  that  it  grati- 
fied my  ambition  to  be  welcomed  with  such  manifestations  of 
regard  as  tho  inhabitants  thought  proper  to  bestow.  My  ap- 
proach was  heralded  by  the  song  of  a  kingly  bee ;  and  when  I 


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206 


LAKE  HORICON. 


had  thrown  myself  upon  a  moBsy  hank,  multitudes  of  people 
gathered  round,  and,  with  their  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  mc, 
stood  still,  and  "  expressive  silence  mused  their  praise."  To  the 
"natives,"  I  was  emphatically  a  source  of  astonishment,  and  as 
I  wished  to  gather  instruction  from  the  incident,  I  wondered  in 
my  heart  whether  I  would  be  a  happier  man  if  my  presence  in 
a  human  city  should  create  a  kindred  excitement.  At  any  rate, 
it  would  be  a  "  great  excitement  on  a  small  capital." 


While  quietly  eating  my  dinner  this  noon,  in  the  shady  recess 
of  an  island  near  Black  Mountain,  I  was  startled  by  the  yell  of 
a  pack  of  hounds  coming  down  one  of  its  ravines.  I  know 
that  the  chase  was  after  a  deer,  so  I  waited  with  anxiety  for  his 
appearance,  and  five  minutes  had  hardly  elapsed  before  I  dis- 
covered a  noble  buck  at  bay  on  the  summit  of  a  bluff  which 
extended  into  the  lake.  There  wore  five  dogs  yelping  about 
him,  but  the  "  antlcrcd  monarch"  fought  them  like  a  hero. 
His  hoof  was  the  most  dangerous  weapon  he  could  wield,  and 
it  seemed  to  mc  that  the  earth  actually  trembled  every  time 
that  ho  struck  at  his  enemies.  Presently,  to  my  delight,  one 
of  the  hounds  was  killed,  and  another  so  disabled  that  he  re- 
tired from  the  contest.  But  the  hunters  made  their  appear- 
ance, and  I  know  that  the  scene  would  soon  come  to  a  tragic 
close,  and  when  the  buck  beheld  them,  I  could  almost  believe 
that  over  his  face  a  "  tablet  of  agonizing  thoughts  was  traced," 
for  ho  fell  upon  his  knees,  then  made  a  sudden  wheel,  and  witli 
a  frightful  bound,  as  a  ball  passed  through  his  heart,  cleared 
the  rock  and  fell  into  tho  lake  below.  The  waters  closed  over 
him,  and  methought  that  the  waves  nf  Iloriconj  and  tho  loaves 
of  tho  forest  murmured  a  requiem  above  tho  grave  of  tho  wil- 
derness king.  I  turned  away,  and  partly  resolved  that  I  would 
never  again  have  a  dog  for  my  friend,  or  respect  the  character 
of  a  hunter  ;  but  then  I  looked  into  tho  cryotal  waters  of  the 
lake,  and  thought  of  tho  hmm  in  my  own  eye,  and  atood  con- 
victed of  a  kindred  cruelty. 


One  of  the  moat  singular  procipioes  overlooking  Horioon  is 


m 


LAKE  HORIOON. 


207 


about  five  miles  from  the  outlet,  and  known  as  Rogers'  Slide. 
It  is  some  four  hundred  feet  high,  and  at  one  point  not  a  fissure 
or  sprig  can  be  discovered  to  mar  the  polished  surface  of  the 
rock  till  it  reaches  the  water.  Once  on  a  time  in  the  winter, 
the  said  Rogers  was  pursued  by  a  band  of  Indians  to  this  spot, 
when,  after  throwing  down  his  knapsack,  he  carefully  retraced 
the  steps  of  his  snow-shoes  for  a  short  distance,  and  descending 
the  hill  by  a  circuitous  route,  continued  his  course  across  the 
frozen  lake.  The  Indians,  on  coming  to  the  jumping-ofi*  place, 
discovered  their  enemy  on  the  icy  plain ;  but  when  they  saw 
the  neglected  knapsack  below,  and  no  signs  of  returning  foot- 
steps where  they  stood,  they  thought  the  devil  was  in  the  man, 
and  gave  up  the  pursuit. 


fJ;i.'^ 


The  most  famous,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  islands  in 
this  lake,  is  Diamond  Island,  so  called  from  the  fact  that  it 
abounds  in  crystalized  quartz.  It  is  half  a  mile  in  length,  but 
the  last  place  which  would  be  thought  of  as  the  scene  of  a  battle. 
It  is  memorable  for  the  attack  made  by  the  Americans  on  the 
British,  who  had  a  garrison  there  during  the  Revolution.  The 
American  detachment  was  commanded  by  Colonel  Brown,  and 
being  elated  with  his  recent  triumphs  on  Lake  Champlain,  he 
resolved  to  attack  Diamond  J  ihd.  The  battle  was  bloody, 
and  tho  British  fought  like  brave  men,  "long  and  well;"  the 
Atpericans  weie  defeated,  and  this  misfortune  was  followed  1 ,, 
the  Bufferings  of  a  itiost  painful  retreat  over  the  almost  impas- 
sable mountains  between  the  Lake  and  what  is  now  Whitehall. 
While  wandering  about  tho  island  it  was  a  difBcult  matter  for 
mo  to  realize  that  it  had  over  resounded  with  the  roar  of  can- 
non, the  dismal  wail  of  war,  and  the  shout  of  victory.  The 
spot  is  now  covered  with  woods,  whose  shadowy  groves  are  the 
abode  of  a  thousand  birds,  forever  singing  a  song  of  peace  or 
love,  as  if  to  condemn  the  ambition  and  cruelty  of  man. 


In  the  vicinity  of  French  Mountain  is  an  island  celebrated 
as  the  burial-place  of  a  rattlesnake  hunter,  named  Belden. 
From  »U  that  I  can  learn,  he  must  have  been  a  strange  mortal 


>v:m 


M 

1 

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1 

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! 

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li^f 


208 


LAKE  HORICON. 


i^:'r 


indeed.  His  birth-place  an.l  early  history  were  alike  unknovrD. 
When  he  first  made  his  appearance  at  this  lake,  his  only  com- 
panions were  a  brotherhood  of  rattlesnakes,  by  exhibiting  which 
he  professed  to  have  obtained  his  living ;  and  it  is  said  that, 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  he  acquired  a  handsome  sum 
of  money  by  selling  the  oil  and  gall  of  his  favorite  reptile. 
And  I  have  recently  been  told  that  the  present  market  price  of 
a  fat  snake,  when  dead,  is  not  less  than  half  a  dollar.  Another 
mode  peculiar  to  old  Belden  for  making  money,  was  to  suffer 
himself  to  bo  bitten,  at  some  tavern,  after  which  he  would  re- 
turn to  his  cabin  to  apply  the  remedy,  when  he  would  come 
forth  again  just  as  good  as  new.  But  ho  was  not  always  to  be 
a  solemn  trifler.  For  a  week  had  tlie  old  man  been  missing, 
and  on  a  pleasant  Ay^ust  morning,  his  boUy  was  found  on  tiiC' 
island  alluded  to,  sadly  mutilated  and  bioated,  and  it  was  cer- 
tain that  he  had  died  actually  surrounded  with  rattlesnakes. 
His  death-bed  became  his  grave,  and  rattlesnakes  weic  his  only 
watchers ;  thus  ended  the  story  of  his  life. 

But  this  reminds  me  of  two  little  adventures.  The  other  day, 
as  I  was  seated  near  the  edge  of  a  sand-bar,  near  the  mouth  of 
a  brook,  sketching  a  group  of  trees  and  a  sunset  cloud  be- 
yond*, I  was  startled  by  an  immense  black  snake,  that  landed 
at  my  side,  and  pursued  its  way  directly  under  ray  legs,  upon 
which  my  drawing-book  was  resting.  Owing  to  my  perfect 
silence,  the  creature  had  probably  looked  upon  me  as  a  mere 
stump.  But  what  was  my  surprise,  a  few  minutes  after,  when 
rc-scatcd  in  the  same  place,  to  find  another  snake,  and  that  u 
large  spotted  adder,  passing  along  tho  same  track  the  former 
had  pursued.  Tho  first  fright  had  almost  disabled  mo  from 
using  tho  pencil,  but  when  tho  second  came,  I  gave  a  lusty  yell, 
and  forgetful  of  tho  fino  arts,  started  for  home  on  tho  keen  run. 

At  another  time,  when  returning  from  a  fishing  excursion, 
in  a  boat,  accompanied  by  a  couplo  of  "  green-horns,"  wo  dis- 
covered on  tho  water,  near  Tongue  Mountain,  an  immense  rat- 
tlesnake, with  his  head  turned  towards  us.  As  tho  oarsman  in 
the  bow  of  tho  boat  struck  at  him  with  his  oar,  tho  snako  coiled 
round  it,  and  the  fool  was  in  tho  very  act  of  dropping  the  devil- 


W: 


m 


LAKE  HORICON. 


209 


M 


isli  thing  in  my  lap.  I  had  heard  the  creature  rattlr  and  not 
knowing  what  I  did,  as  he  hung  suspended  over  me,  overhoard 
I  went,  and  did  not  look  behind  until  I  had  reached  the  land. 
The  consequence  was,  that  for  one  while  I  was  perfectly  dis- 
gusted even  with  Lake  Horicon,  and  resolved  to  leave  it  without 
delay.  The  snake  was  killed  without  doing  any  harm,  however, 
but  such  a  blowing  up  as  I  gave  the  green-horn  actually  made 
his  hair  stand  straight  with  fear. 

One  more  snake  storyj  and  I  will  conclude :  On  the  north 
side  of  Black  Mountain  is  a  cluster  o^  some  half  dozen  houses, 
in  a  vale,  which  spot  is  called  the  Bosom,  but  from  what  cause 
I  do  hot  know.  The  presiding  geniuses  of  the  place  are  a  band 
of  girls,  weighing  two  hundred  pounds  apiece,  who  farm  it  with 
their  fathers  for  a  living,  but  whose  principal  amusement  is  rat- 
tlesnake hunting.  Their  favorite  play-ground  is  the  notorious 
cliff  on  Tongue  Mountain,  where  they  go  with  naked  feet  (row- 
ing their  o^n  boats  across  the  lake,)  and  pull  out  by  their  tails 
from  the  rocks  the  pretty  playthings,  and,  snapping  them  to 
death,  they  lay  them  away  in  a  basket  as  trophies  of  their  skill. 
I  was  told  that  in  one  day  last  year  they  killed  the  incredible 
number  of  eleven  hundred.  \\  hat  delicious  wives  would  these 
Horicon  ladies  make.  Since  the  Florida  Indians  have  been 
driven  from  their  country  by  blood-hounds,  would  it  not  be  a 
good  idea  for  Congress  to  secure  the  services  of  these  amazons 
for  the  purpose  of  exterminating  the  rattlesnakes  upon  our 
mountains  ?  This  latter  movement  would  be  the  most  ridicu- 
lous, but  the  inhumanity  of  the  former  is  without  a  parallel. 


A  clear  and  tranquil  summer  night,  and  I  am  alone  on  tho 
pebbly  beach  of  this  paragon  of  lakes.  Tho  countless  hosts 
of  heaven  are  beaming  upon  me  with  a  silent  joy,  and  more 
impressive  and  holy  than  a  poet's  dream  are  the  surrounding 
mountains,  as  they  stand  reflected  in  the  unruffled  waters. 
Listen !  what  sound  is  that  bo  like  tho  wail  of  a  spirit  ?  Only 
a  loon,  the  lonely  night-watcher  of  Horicon,  whoso  melancholy 
moan,  as  it  breaks  the  profound  Rcillness,  carries  my  fancy  back 
to  tho  olden  Indian  times,  ere  the  white  man  had  crossed  the 
14 


^m^i'*^, 


m 


d 

'M 

i 

m  ^^liiiJinl^ 

ksiS^Ej 

lll^pt 

|TOi-..-Si| 

ipi 

ii 

121 

210 


LAKE  HORICON. 


ocean.  All  these  mountains  and  this  beautiful  lake  were  then 
the  heritage  of  a  brave  and  noble-hearted  people,  who  made 
war  only  upon  the  denizens  of  the  forest,  whose  lives  were 
peaceful  as  a  dream,  and  whose  manly  forms,  decorated  with 
the  plumes  of  the  eagle,  the  feathers  of  the  scarlet  bird,  and  the 
robe  of  the  bounding  stag,  tended  but  to  make  the  scenery  of 
the  wilderness  beautiful  as  an  earthly  Eden.  Here  was  the 
quiet  wigwfjn  village,  and  there  the  secluded  aboae  of  the 
t  ioughtful  chief.  Here,  unmolested,  the  Indian  child  played 
with  the  spotted  fawn,  and  the  "  Indian  lover  wooed  his  dusky 
mate;"  here  the  Indian  hunter,  in  the  ''sunset  of  his  life" 
watched  with  holy  awe  the  sunset  in  i.he  west,  and  here  the 
ancient  Indian  prophetess  sung  her  uncouth  but  religious  chant. 
Gone — ail,  all  gone — and  the  desolate  creature  of  the  waves, 
now  pealing  forth  another  wail,  seems  the  only  memorial  that 
they  have  left  behind.  There — my  recent  aspirations  are  all 
quellod,  I  can  walk  no  further  to  night; — there  is  a  sadnesy  in 
my  Roul,  and  I  must  seek  my  home.  It  is  such  a  blessed  nigh!;, 
it  seems  almost  sinful  that  a  blight  should  rest  on  the  spirit  of 
man ;  yet  on  mine  a  gloom  will  sonietimec  fall,  nor  can  I  tell 
whence  the  cloud  that  makes  mo  sad. 


?..v 


EmPTYIN( 

of  Glenn's  ] 
East  Branc 
River.*  It 
a  clear,  cold 
country,  ani 
which  it  run 
frown  upon 
The  valley  < 
and  as  I  ha 
week,  I  will 
The  most 
Lake,  throu 
It  is  ten  mi 
ccpting  a  lii 
the  southeri 
of  mountair 
supplied  wil 
most  valual 
George,  bui 
in  the  autui 
desperate  e 
cess,  thougl 

*  The  won 
meaning  of  v 
ally  namod  b 


mm* 


*  The  word  Sohroon  is  bad  EngHsh  for  the  Indian  word  Scaroon,  the 
meaning  of  which  is — "child  of  the  mountaitu."  Tlio  river  was  origin- 
ally named  by  an  Algonquin  chief  after  a  favorite  daughter. 


mym 


THE   SCAROON   COUNTRY. 


Emptying  into  the  Hudson  River,  about  fifteen  miles  north 
of  Glenn's  Falls,  is  quite  a  large  stream,  sometimes  called  the- 
East  Branch  of  the  Hudson,  but  generally  known  as  Scroon 
River.*  Its  extreme  length  is  not  far  from  fifty  miles.  It  is 
a  clear,  cold,  and  rapid  stream,  winds  through  a  mountainous 
country,  and  has  rather  a  deep  channel.  The  valley  through 
which  it  runs  is  somewhat  cultivated,  but  the  mountains  which 
frown  upon  it  on  cither  side,  are  coverfed  with  dense  forests. 
The  valley  of  the  Scaroon  abounds'in  beautiful  lakes  and  brooks ; 
and  as  I  have  explored  them  pretty  thoroughly  during  the  past 
week,  I  will  now  record  the  result  of  my  observations. 

The  most  prominent  pictorial  feature  of  this  region  is  Scaroon 
Lake,  through  which  the  river  of  that  name  forms  a  channel. 
It  is  ten  miles  in  length  and  averages  about  one  in  vridth.  Ex- 
cepting a  little  hamlet  at  its  head,  and  two  or  three  farms  at 
the  southern  extremity,  it  is  yet  surrounded  with  a  wilderness 
of  mountains.  The  v;atera  thereof  are  deep  and  clear,  and  well 
supplied  with  fish,  of  which  the  salmon-trout  and  pike  are  the 
most  valuable.  The  trout  arc  more  abundant  hero  than  in  Lake 
George,  but  owing  to  the  prevailing  custom  of  spearing  them 
in  the  autumn,  they  are  rapidly  becoming  extinct.  I  made  a 
desperate  cfibrt  to  capture  one  as  a  specimen,  but  without  suc- 
cess, though  I  was  told  that  they  varied  in  weight  from  ten  to 


fe£?iiS 


i;::,.?Si 


212 


THE  SCAROON  fcOUNTRY. 


■  hY) 


^dk 


v,U':-'^Tli''*l 


fifteen  pounds.  My  efforts,  however,  in  taking  pike  were  more 
encouraging.  But  before  giving  my  experience,  I  must  men- 
tion an  interesting  fact  in  natural  history.  Previous  to  the 
year  1840,  Scaroon  Lake  was  not  known  to  contain  a  single 
pike,  but  during  that  year,  some  half  dozen  males  and  females 
were  brought  from  Lake  Champlain  and  deposited  therein,  since 
which  time  they  have  multiplied  so  rapidly  as  to  be  quite  abun- 
dant, not  only  in  Scaroon  Lake,  but  in  all  the  neighboring 
waters,  and  as  they  are  frequently  taken  weighing  some  twenty 
pounds,  the  fact  seems  to  be  established  that  this  fish  grows 
quite  rapidly,  and  is  not  of  slow  growth,  as  many  naturalists 
have  supposed. 

But  to  my  pike  story.  A  number  of  lumbermen  were  going 
out  for  the  purpose  of  taking  pike  by  torch-light,  and  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  seat  in  one  of  the  three  flat  boats 
which  contained  the  fishermen.  It  was  a  superb  night,  and  the 
lake  was  without  a  ripple.  Our  torches  were  made  of  "fat 
pine,"  PL-  it  is  here  called,  and  my  polite  friends  t^ing  it  for 
granted  that  I  was  a  novice  in  the  spearing  business,  they  cun- 
ningly awarded  me  the  dullest  spear  in  their  possession,  ard 
gave  me  the  poorest  position  in  the  boat.  I  said  nothing  to  all 
this,  but  inwardly  resolved  that  I  would  give  them  a  salutary 
lesson,  if  possible^  I  fished  from  nine  until  twelve  o'clock,  and 
then  left  my  friends  to  continue  the  sport.  The  entire  number 
of  pike  taken,  as  I  found  out  in  the  morning,  was  thirteen,  and 
as  fortune  would  have  it,  four  of  this  number  were  captured  by 
myself,  in  spite  of  my  poor  spear.  I  did  not  take  the  largest 
fish,  which  weighed  eighteen  pounds,  but  the  greatest  number, 
with  which  success  I  was  satisfied.  The  effect  of  my  good  luck 
was  unexpected  to  my  companions,  but  gratifying  to  nje,  for 
there  was  afterwards  a  strife  between  them  as  to  who  should 
show  me  the  most  attention  in  the  way  of  piloting  me  about  the 
country.  This  little  adventure  taught  me  the  importance  of 
understanding  even  the  vagabond  ar*  of  spearing. 

The  event  of  that  night,  however,  which  afforded  me  the 
purest  ^enjoyment,  was  the  witnessing  of  a  moonlight  scene, 
immediately  after  leaving  the  lake  shore  for  the  inn,  where  I 


mn  'J 


THE  SCAROON  COUNIRT. 


213 


was  tarrying.  Before  me,  in  wild  and  solemn  beauty,  lay  the 
southern  portion  of  the  Scaroon,  on  whose  bosom  were  gliding 
the  spearmen,  holding  high  above  their  heads  their  huge  torches, 
which  throv  a  spectral  glare,  not  only  upon  the  water,  but  upon 
the  swarthy  forms  watching  for  their  prey.  Just  at  this  mo- 
ment, an  immense  cloud  of  fog  broke  away,  and  directly  above 
the  summit  of  tho  op^iosite  mountain,  the  clear,  full  moon  made 
its  appearance,  and  a  thousand  fantastic  figures,  born  of  the 
fog,  were  pictured  in  the  sky,  and  appeared  extremely 'brilliant 
under  the  eflFulgence  of  the  ruling  planet ;  while  the  zenith  of 
jky  ws,<j  of  a  deep  blue,  cloudless,  but  completely  spangled  with 
sttirs.  And  what  greatly  added  to  the  magic  of  the  scene,  was 
the  dismal  scream  of  a  loon,  which  came  to  my  ear  from  a  re- 
mote portion  of  the  lake,  yet  covered  with  a  heavy  fog. 

Rising  from  the  western  margin  of  Scaroon  Lake,  is  quite  a 
lofty  mountain,  which  was  once  painted  by  Thomas  Cole,  and 
by  him  namo'l  Scaroon  Mountain.  There  is  notbing  particu- 
larly imposing  about  it,  but  it  commands  an  uncommonly  fine 
prospect  of  the  surrounding  country.  When  I  first  came  *in 
sight  of  this  mountain,  it  struck  me  as  an  old  acquaintance,  and 
I  reigned  in  my  horse  for  the  purpose  of  investigating  its  fea- 
tures. Before  I  resumed  my  course,  I  concluded  that  I  was 
standing  on  the  very  spot  whence  the  artist  had  taken  his  ori- 
ginal sketch  of  the  scene,  by  which  circumstance  I  was  con- 
vinced of  the  fidelity  of  his  pencil. 

Tho  largest  island  in  Scaroon  Lake,  lies  near  the  northern 
extremity,  and  studs  the  water  like  an  emerald  on  a  field  of 
blue.  It  was  purchased,  some  years  ago,  by  a  gentleman  of 
New  York,  who  has  built  a  summer  residence  upon  it,  for  the 
accommodation  of  himself  and  friends. 

Emptying  into  tho  Scaroon  River,  just  below  tho  lake,  is  a 
superb  mountain  stream,  known  as  Trout  Brook.  It  is  thirty 
feet  wide,  twelve  miles  long,  and  comes  rushing  down  the  moun- 
tains, forming  a  hundred  waterfalls  and  pools,  and  filling  its 
narrow  valley  with  perpetual  music.  Not  only  is  it  distin- 
tinguished  for  the  quality  and  number  of  its  trout,  but  it  pos- 
sesses one  attraction  which  will  pay  the  tourist  for  the  weary 


'1 


214 


THE  SCAROON  COUNTRY. 


1 

iftlplSH 

H 

>|,;'Kj^m 

m 

m 

DV^ftm^^SIRI 

m 

^^^ 

1 

'Vf^ 

1 

'■'^L-Jmam 

s9| 

.^'■V  >?{llKC!l BM 

ISi>'»»^*''li:l'n;;  ■ 


tramp  lie  must  undergo  to  explore  its  remote  recesses.    I  allude 
to  what  the  people  about  here  call  "the  Stone  Bridge."    At 
this  point,  the  wild  and  dashing  stream  has  formed  a  channel 
directly  through  the  solid  mountains,  so  that,  in  fishing  down, 
the  angler  suddenly  finds  himself  standing  upon  a  pile  of  dry 
stones.     The  extent  of  this  natural  bridge  is  not  more  than 
twenty  or,  perhaps,  thirty  feet,  but  the  wonder  is,  that  the  un- 
seen channel  is  sufiiciently  large  to  admit  the  passage  of  the 
largest  logs  which  the  lumbermen  float  down  the  stream.    I 
might  also  add,  that  at  the  foot  of  this  bridge  is  one  of  the 
finest  pools  imaginable.     It  is,  perhaps,  one  hundred  feet  long, 
and  so  very  deep  that  the  clear  water  appears  quite  black. 
This  is  the  finest  spot  in  the  whole  brook  for  trout,  and  my 
luck  there  may  be  described  as  follows :  I  had  basketed  no  less 
than  nine  half-pounders,  when  my  fly  was  suddenly  seized, 
and  my  snell  snapped  in  twain  by  the  fierceness  of  another. 
The  consequence  of  that  defeat  was,  that  I  resolved  to  capture 
the  trout,  if  I  had  to  remain  there  all  night.   I  then  ransacked 
the  mountain  side  for  a  living  bait,  and,  with  the  aid  of  my 
companion,  succeeded  in  capturing  a  small  mouse,  and  just  as 
the  twilight  was  coming  on,  I  tied  the  little  fellow  to  my  hook, 
and  threw  him  on  the  water.     He  swam  across  in  fine  style, 
but  when  he  reached  the  centre  of  the  pool,  a  largo  trout  leaped 
completely  out  of  his  element,  and  in  descending,  seized  the 
mouse,  and  the  result  was,  that  I  broke  my  rod,  but  caught 
the  trout,  and  though  the  mouse  was  seriously  injured,  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  again  giving  him  his  liberty. 

The  largest  trout  that  I  killed  weighed  nearly  a  pound,  and 
though  he  was  the  cause  of  my  receiving  a  ducking,  he  afforded 
me  some  sport,  and  gave  me  a  new  idea.  When  I  first  hooked 
him,  I  stood  on  the  very  margin  of  the  stream,  knee  deep  in  a 
bog,  and  just  as  I  was  about  to  basket  him,  ho  gave  a  sudden 
leap,  cleared  himself,  and  fell  into  the  water.  Quick  as  thought 
I  made  an  effort  to  rescue  him,  but  in  doing  so,  lost  my  balance, 
and  was  playing  the  part  of  a  turtle  in  a  tub  of  water.  I  then 
became  poetical,  and  thought  it  "  would  never  do  to  giv'  it  up 
90,"  and  after  waiting  some  fifteen  minutes,  I  returned  and  tried 


THK  SOABOON  COUNTRT. 


215 


for  the  loat  trout  again.  I  threw  my  fly  some  twenty  feet 
ahove  the  place  where  I  had  tumbled  in,  and  recaptured  the 
identical  fiah  which  I  had  lost.  I  recognized  him  by  his  having 
a  torn  and  bleeding  mouth.  This  circumstance  convinced  me 
that  trout,  like  many  of  the  sons  of  men,  have  short  memories, 
and  also  that  the  individual  in  question  was  a  perfect  Richelieu 
or  General  Taylor  in  his  wr.y,  for  he  seemed  to  know  no  such 
word  as  fail.  As  to  the  trout  that  I  did  not  capture,  I  verily 
believe  that  he  must  have  weighed  two  pounds  ;  but  as  he  was, 
probably,  a  superstitious  gentleman,  he  thought  it  the  better 
part  of  valor,  somewhat  like  Santa  Anna,  to  treat  the  steel  of 
his  enemy  with  contempt. 

The  brook  of  which  I  have  been  speaking,  is  only  twenty- 
five  miles  from  Lake  Horicon,  and  unquestionably  one  of  the 
best  streams  for  the  angler  in  the  Scaroon  valley.  The  Trout 
Brook  Pavilion,  at  the  mouth  of  it,  kept  by  one  Lockvrood,  is 
a  comfortable  inn,  and  his  right  hand  man,  named  Ki ;jp,  is  a 
very  fine  fellow  and  a  genuine  angler. 

Speaking  of  the  above  friends,  reminds  me  of  another,  a  fine 
man  named  Lyndsey,  who  keepeth  a  tavern,  about  len  miles 
north  of  Scaroon  Lake.  His  dwelling  is  delightfully  situated 
in  the  centre  of  a  deep  valley,  and  is  a  nice  and  convenient 
place  to  stop  at,  for  those  who  are  fond  of  fishing,  and  admire 
romantic  scenery.  His  family,  including  his  wife,  two  daugh- 
ters and  one  son,  not  .only  know  how  to  make  their  friends  com- 
fortable, but  they  seem  to  have  a  passion  for  doing  kind  deeds. 
During  my  stay  at  this  place,  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  wit- 
nessing a  most  interesting  game,  which  seems  to  be  peculiar  to 
this  part  of  the  country.  It  was  played  with  the  common  ball 
and  by  one  hundred  sturdy  farmers.  Previous  to  the  time  allu- 
ded to,  fifty  Scaroon  players  had  challenged  an  equal  number  of 
players  from  a  neighboring  village  named  Moriah.  The  con- 
ditions were  that  the  defeated  party  should  pay  for  a  dinner  to 
bo  given  by  my  friend  Lyndsey.  They  commenced  playing  at 
nine  o'clock,  and  the  game  was  ended  in  about  three  hours,  the 
Scaroon  party  having  won  by  about  ten  counts  in  five  hundred. 
The  minority  of  the  players  varied  from  thirty  to  thirty-five 


216 


THE  SCAROON  COUNTRT. 


m 


mB 

Wm 

IIP 

p:P'>^^m 

mm 

Kt' 

Wfi 

iM\ 

Wl^ 

i 

m 

b'4 

Wk 

years  of  age,  though  some  of  the  most  expert  of  them  were 
verging  upon  sixty  years.  They  played  with  the  impetuosity 
of  'xhool  boys,  and  there  were  some  admirable  feats  performed 
in  the  way  of  knocking  and  catching  the  ball.  Some  of  the 
men  could  number  their  acres  by  thousands,  and  all  of  them 
were  accustomed  to  severe  labor,  and  yet  they  thought  it  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  participate  occasionally  in  this  manly  and 
fatiguing  sport.  The  dinner  passed  oif  in  fine  style,  and  was 
spiced  by  many  agricultural  anecdotes,  and  as  the  sun  was  set- 
ting, the  parties  separated  in  the  best  of  spirits  and  returned 
to  their  several  homes. 

For  fear  that  I  should  forget  my  duty,  I  would  now  introduce 
to  my  reader  a  sheet  of  water  embosomed  among  these  moun- 
tains, which  glories  in  the  name  of  Lake  Paradox.  How  it 
came  by  that  queer  title,  I  cannot  learn,  but  this  I  know,  that 
it  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  lakes  I  have  ever  seen.  It  is  five 
miles  long,  and  surrounded  with  uncultivated  mountains,  ex- 
cepting at  its  foot,  where  opens  a  beautiful  plain,  highly  culti- 
vated and  dotted  with  a  variety  of  rude  but  exceedingly  com- 
fortable farm  houses.  The  shores  of  Lake  Paradox  are  rocky, 
the  water  deep  and  clear,  abounding  in  fish,  and  the  lines  of  the 
mountains  are  picturesque. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  turn  from  particulars  to  a  general 
description  of  the  Scaroon  Country.  Though  this  is  an  agri- 
cultural region,  the  two  principle  article^  of  export  are  lumber 
and  iron.  Of  the  former  the  principal  varieties  are  pine,  hem- 
lock and  spruce,  and  two  establishments  for  the  manufacture  of 
iron  arc  abundantly  supplied  with  ore  from  the  surrounding 
mountains.  Potatoes  of  the  finest  quality  flourish  here,  alpo 
wheat  and  corn.  The  people  are  mostly  Americans,  intelligent, 
virtuous  and  industrious,  and  are  as  comfortable  and  happy  as 
any  in  the  State. 


THE    ADIRONDAC   MOUNTAINS 


Th£  Adirondac  Mountains  are  situated  on  the  extreme  head 
waters  of  the  Hudson,  in  the  counties  of  Essex  and  Hamilton, 
and  ahout  forty  miles  west  of  Lake  Champlain.  They  vary 
from  five  hundred  to  five  thousand  feet  in  height,  and,  with  few 
exceptions,  are  covered  ^nth.  dense  forests.  They  lord  it  over 
the  most  extensive  wilderness  region  in  the  Empire  State,  and 
as  I  have  recently  performed  a  pilgrimage  among  them,  I  now 
purpose  to  give  an  account  of  what  I  saw  and  heard  during  my 
expedition. 

The  tourist  who  visits  these  mountains,  finds  it  necessary  to 
leave  the  mail  road  near  Lyndsey's  Tavern,  on  the  Scaroon. 
If  Fortune  smiles  upon  him,  he  will  he  aLle  to  hire  a  horse  to 
take  him  in  the  interior,  or  perhaps  obtain  a  seat  in  a  lumber 
wagon  ;  but  if  not,  he  must  try  the  mettle  of  his  legs.  With 
regard  to  my  own  case,  fortune  was  non-committal ;  for  while 
she  compelled  me  to  go  on  foot,  she  supplied  me  with  a  pair  of 
temporary  companions,  who  were  going  into  the  interior  to  see 
their  friends,  and  have  a  few  days'  sport  in  the  way  of  fishing 
and  hunting.  One  of  ray  friends,  (both  of  whom  were  young 
men,)  was  a  farmer,  who  carried  a  rifle,  and  the  other  a  travel- 
ling country  musician,  who  carried  a  fiddle.  Our  first  day's 
tramp  took  us  about  fifteen  miles,  through  a  hilly,  thickly 
wooded,  and  houseless  wilderness,  to  the  Boreas  River,  where 
we  found  a  ruined  log  shantee,  in  which  we  concluded  to  spend 
the  night.  We  reached  this  lonely  spot  at  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon ;  and  having  previously  been  told  that  the 


218 


THE  ADIROMDAC  MOUNTAINS. 


•*"f*'i 


' 


^llijBS 


Boretk3  ifas  famous  for  trout,  two  of  us  started  after  a  mess  of 
fish,  while  the  fiddler  was  appointed  to  the  office  of  wood-chopper 
to  the  expedition.  The  Boreas  at  this  point  is  about  one  hun- 
dred feet  broad, — winds  through  a  woody  valley,  and  is  cold, 
rapid,  and  clear.  The  entire  river  does  not  differ  materially,  as 
I  understand,  from  the  point  alluded  to,  for  it  waters  an  un- 
known wilderness.  I  bribed  my  farmer  friend  to  ascend  the 
river,  and  having  pocked  a  variety  of  flies,  I  started  down  the 
stream.  I  proceeded  near  half  a  mile,  when  I  came  to  a  still 
water  pool,  which  seemed  to  be  quite  extensive,  and  very  deep. 
At  the  head  of  it,  midway  in  the  stream,  was  an  immense  boul- 
der, which  I  succeeded  in  surmounting,  and  whence  I  threw  a 
red  hackle  for  upwards  of  three  hours.  I  never  saw  trout  jump 
more  beautifully,  and  it  was  my  rare  luck  to  basket  thirty-four ; 
twenty-one  of  which  averaged  three-quarters  of  a  pound,  and 
the  remaining  thirteen  were  regular  two-pounders.  Satisfied 
with  my  luck,  I  returned  to  the  shantee,  where  I  found  my 
companions ;  one  of  them  sitting  before  a  blazing  fire  and  fid- 
dling, and  the  other  busily  employed  in  cleaning  the  trout  he 
had  taken. 

In  due  time  followed  the  principal  events  of  the  day,  which 
consisted  in  cooking  and  eating  a  wilderness  supper.  We  had 
brought  a  supply  of  pork  and  bread,  and  each  one  having  pre- 
pared for  himself  a  pair  of  wooden  forka,  we  proceeded  to  roast 
our  trout  and  pork  before  a  huge  fire,  using  the  drippings  of  the 
latter  for  seasoning,  and  a  leather  cup  of  water  for  our  bever- 
age. We  spent  the  two  following  hours  in  smoking  and  telling 
stories,  and  having  made  a  bed  of  spruce  boughs,  and  repaired 
the  ricketty  partition  which  divided  one  end  of  the  cabin  from 
the  other  end,  which  was  all  open,  we  retired  to  repose !  We 
had  no  blankets  with  us,  and  an  agreement  was  therefore  en- 
tered into,  that  we  should  take  turns  in  replenishing  the  fire 
during  the  night.  An  awfully  dai;k  cloud  settled  upon  the 
wilderness,  and  by  the  music  of  the  wind  among  the  hemlock 
trees,  we  were  soon  lulled  into  a  deep  slumber. 

A  short  time  after  midnight,  while  dreaming  of  a  certain 
pair  of  eyes  in  the  upper  part  of  Broadway,  I  was  awakened 


THE  ADIBONDAO  MOUNTAINS. 


219 


,)»^;rr 


by  a  footstep  on  the  outside  of  the  cabin.  I  brushed  open  my 
eyes,  but  could  see  nothing  but  the  faint  glimmer  of  an  expir- 
ing ember  on  the  hearth.  I  held  my  breath,  and  listened  for 
the  mysterious  footstep ;  I  heard  it  not,  but  something  a  little 
more  exciting, — the  scratching  of  a  huge  paw  upon  our  slender 
door.  In  an  exceedingly  short  time,  I  roused  my  bed-fe'lows, 
and  told  them  what  I  had  heard.  They  thought  it  must  be  a 
wolf,  but  as  we  were  afraid  to  frighten  Lira  away,  and  anxious 
to  take  his  hide,  it  was  resolved  that  I  should  hold  a  match,  and 
the  farmer  should  fire  his  rifle  in  the  direction  of  the  uiysterious 
noise;  which  operation  was  duly  perforuied.  A  large  p;ae 
torch  was  then  lighted,  the  rifle  reloaded,  and  the  heroes  of  Ui  3 
adventure  marched  into  the  outer  hall  of  the  cabin,  where  we 
found  a  few  drops  of  blood,  and  the  muddy  trac'-  ;  !^  what  we 
supposed  to  be  a  wild  cat.  The  ridcman  and  mvself  then  com- 
missioned the  fiddler  to  make  a  fire,  when  Ave  again  threw  our- 
selves upon  the  hemlock  couch. 

The  fiddler  attended  faithfully  to  his  duty,  and  in  less  than 
twenty  minutes,  he  had  kindled  a  tremendous  blaze.  The  bril- 
liant and  laughing  flame  had  such  an  exhilarating  influence 
upon  his  nerves,  that  he  seized  his  instrument  and  commenced 
playing,  partly  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  off"  the  wild  animals, 
but  mostly  for  his  own  amusement.  Then  laying  aside  his 
fiddle,  he  began  to  sing  a  variety  of  uncouth,  as  well  as  plain- 
tive songs,  one  of  which  was  vaguc,  hvt  mournful  in  sentiment, 
and  more  wild  in  melody,  as  I  thoa^ia  at  the  time,  than  any- 
thing that  I  had  ever  heard.  I  could  not  find  out  by  whom  it 
was  written,  or  <vhat  was  its  exact  import,  but  in  the  lonely 
place  where  Ave  were  sleeping,  and  at  that  hour,  it  made  a  very 
deep  impression  on  my  mind. 

The  burthen  of  the  song  was  as  foUoAvs,  and  I  thought  it  in 
keeping  with  the  picture  which  the  minstrel,  the  firelight,  and 
the  rude  cabin  presented.  • 

Wo  parted  in  silence,  wo  parted  at  night, 
On  the  banks  of  that  lonely  river, 
AVhere  the  shadowy  trees  their  boughs  unite, 
We  Act,  and  we  parted  forever ; — 


I 


P'^MH^ 


■v  ,Vi 


~sb^ 


220  THE  ADIRONDAC  MOUNTAINS.  ^ 

The  night  bird  sang,  and  the  stars  above 
Told  many  a  touching  story 
Of  friends  long  passed  to  the  mansions  of  rest, 
Where  the  soul  Tears  her  mantle  of  glory. 

We  parted  in  silence ;  our  cheeks  were  wet 

By  the  tears  that  wore  past  controlling ; — 

We  vowed  we  would  never,  no  never  forget, 

And  those  vows  at  the  time  were  consoling ; — 

But  the  lips  that  echoed  those  vows 

Are  as  cold  as  that  lonely  river ;  ''■ 

The  sparkling  eye,  the  spirit's  shrine,  i      ,• 

Has  shrouded  its  fire  forever.       ,,  ,,      ...      . 

•  And  now  on  the  midnight  sky  I  look, 

My  eyes  grow  full  with  weeping, — 
Each  star  to  mo  is  a  sealed  book, 
Some  tala  of  that  loved  one  keeping. 

We  parted  in  silence,  we  parted  in  tears,     j  .      . ;  , 

On  the  banks  of  that  lonely  river ; 
•  But  the  odor  and  bloom  of  by-gone  years 

Shall  hang  o'er  its  waters  forever. 

But  Bleep,  "  dear  mother  of  fresh  thoughts  and  joyoug 
health,"  soon  folded  the  singer  and  his  listeners  in  her  embrace,  ■ 
and  with  the  rising  sun  we  entered  upon  the  labors  of  another 
day.  While  the  fiddler  prepared  our  breakfast,  (out  of  the  few 
trout  which  certain  beastly  robbers  had  not  stolen  during  the 
night,)  the  rifleman  went  out  and  killed  a  large  hare,  and  I  took 
a  sketch  of  the  cabin  where  we  had  lodged. 

After  breakfast,  we  shouldered  our  knapsacks,  and  started 
for  the  Hudson.  Wo  struck  this  noble  river  at  the  embryo 
<!ity  of  Tahawus,  where  we  found  a  log  house  and  an  unfinished 
saw-mill.  Here  we  also  discovered  a  canoe,  which  we  boarded, 
and  navigated  the  stream  to  Lake  Sanford.  This  portion  of 
the  Hudson  is  not  more  than  one  hundred  feet  broad,  but  quite 
deep  and  picturesque.  On  leaving  our  canoe,  we  made  our  way 
up  a  mountain  road,  and  after  walking  about  four  miles,  cami' 
out  upon  an  elevated  clearing,  of  nome  two  hundred  acres,  ifi 
the  centre  of  which  was  a  solitary  log  cabin  with  a  retinue  of 
out-hottseB,  and  this  was  the  famous  Newoomb  Bftrm. 


THE  ADIRONDAO  MOUNTAINS. 


221 


The  attractions  of  this  spot  are  manifold,  for  it  lies  in  the 
vicinity  of  Moose  Lake  and  Lake  Delia,  and  commands  the 
finest  distant  prospect  of  the  Adirondac  mountains  which  has 
yet  been  discovered. 

Moose  Lake  lies  at  the  west  of  the  farm,  and  about  six  miles 
distant.     It  is  embosomed  among  mountains,  and  the  fountain 
head  of  the  Cold  River,  which  empties  into  the  St.  Lawrence. 
In  form  it  is  so  nearly  round  that  its  entire  shore  may  be  seen 
at  one  view ;  the  bottom  is  covered  with  white  sand,  and  the 
water  is  remarkably  cold  and  clear.     Considering  its  size,  it  is 
said  to  contain  more  trout  than  any  lake  in  this  wilderness,  and 
it  is  also  celebrated  as  a  watering  place  for  deer  and  moose.   In 
fishing  from  the  shore,  one  of  our  party  caught  no  less  than 
forty  pounds  of  trout  in  about  two  hours.     There  were  two 
varieties,  and  they  varied  from  one  to  two  'pounds  in  weight. 
Our  guide  to  this  lake,  where  wc  encamped  for  one  night,  was 
Steuben  Hewitt,  the  keeper  of  the  Newcomb  Farm,  who  is 
quite  a  hunter.     This  woodsman  got  the  notion  into  his  head 
that  ho  must  have  a  venison  steak  for  his  supper.     We  had 
already  seen  some  half  dozen  deer  walking  along  the  opposite 
margin  of  the  lake,  but  Steuben  told  us  that  he  would  wait 
until  after  dark  to  capture  his  game.     He  also  told  us  that  the 
deer  were  in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  wilder  lakes  of  this  re- 
gion at  night,  for  the  purpose  of  escaping  the  tormenting  flies, 
and  as  ho  spoke  so  confidently  of  what  ho  intended  to  accom- 
plish, wo  awaited  his  effort  with  a  degree  of  anxiety.     Soon  as 
the  quiet  night  had  fairly  set  in,  he  shipped  himself  on  board 
a  wooden  canoe,  (a  rickety  afiair,  originally  bequeathed  to  this 
lake  by  some  departed  Indian,)  in  the  bow  of  which  was  a  fire 
jack,  or  torch  holder.  Separating  this  machine  from  himself,  as 
he  sat  in  the  centre  of  the  canoe,  was  a  kind  of  screen  made 
of  bark,  which  was  sufficiently  elevated  to  allow  him  to  fire  his 
gun  from  underneath  ;  and  in  this  predicament,  with  a  loaded 
rifle  by  his  side,  did  he  paddle  into  the  lake.     After  floating 
upon  the  water  for  an  hour,  in  perfect  silence,  he  finally  heard 
a  splashing  near  the  shore,  and  immediately  lighting  his  torch, 
he  noiselessly  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  when  he 


4 


222 


THE  ADIRONDAO  MOUNTAINS. 


■li.  ^J 

1 

W 

iVi^lM^^B 

^m 

m 

^i 

'''ii 

wm 

i 

fl| 

%:. 


discovered  a  beautiful  deer,  standing  knee  deep  in  the  water, 
and  looking  at  him  in  stupefied  silence.  The  poor  creature 
could  discover  nothing  but  the  mysterious  light,  and  while  stand- 
ing in  the  most  interesting  attitude  imaginable,  the  hunter 
raised  his  rifle,  and  shot  it  through  the  heart.  In  half  an  hour 
from  that  time,  the  carcass  of  the  deer  was  hanging  on  a  dry 
limb  near  our  camp  fire,  and  I  was  lecturing  the  hard-hearted 
hunter  on  the  cruelty  of  thus  capturing  the  innocent  crea- 
tures of  the  forest.  To  all  my  remarks,  however,  he  replied, 
*'  They  were  given  us  for  food,  and  it  matters  not  how  we  kill 
them." 

Lake  Delia,  through  which  you  have  to  pass  in  going  to 
Moose  Lake,  lies  about  two  miles  west  of  the  Newcomb  Farm. 
It  is  four  miles  long,  and  less  than  one  mile  in  width,  and  com- 
pletely surrounded  with  wood-crowned  hills.  Near  the  centrs.1 
portion,  this  lake  is  quite  narrow,  and  so  shallow  that  a  rude 
bridge  has  been  thrown  across  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
Farm  people.  The  water  under  this  bridge  is  only  about  four 
feet  deep,  and  this  was  the  only  spot  in  the  lake  where  I  fol- 
lowed my  favorite  recreation.  I  visited  it  on  one  occasion, 
with  my  companions,  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  wind  was 
blowing,  and  we  enjoyed  rare  sport  in  angling  for  salmon  trout, 
as  well  as  a  large  species  of  common  trout.  I  do  not  know  the 
number  that  we  took,  but  I  well  remember  that  we  had  more 
than  we  could  conveniently  carry.  Usually,  the  salmon  trout 
are  only  taken  in  deep  water,  but  in  this,  and  in  Moose  Lake, 
they  seem  to  bo  as  much  at  homo  in  shallow  as  in  deep  water. 
On  one  occasion  I  visited  Lake  Delia  alone  at  an  early  hour  in 
the  morning.  It  so  happened,  that  I  took  a  rifle  along  with 
me,  and  while  qu''  'y  throwing  my  fly  on  the  old  bridge,  I  had 
an  opportunity  of  using  the  gun  to  some  purpose.  My  move- 
ments in  that  lonely  place  were  so  exceedingly  still,  that  even 
the  wild  animals  were  not  disturbed  by  my  presence;  for  while 
I  stood  there,  a  largo  fat  otter  made  his  oppearance,  and  when 
ho  came  within  shooting  distance,  I  gave  him  the  contents  of 
my  gun,  and  he  disappeared.  I  relatcd^tho  adventure  to  my 
companions,  on  my  return  to  the  farm,  but  they  pronounced  it ' 


THB  ADIKONDAC  MOUNTAINS. 


223 


a  "  fish  story."  My  veracity  was  vindicated,  however,  for,  on 
the  following  day,  they  discovered  a  dead  otter  on  the  lake 
shore,  and  concluded  that  I  had  told  the  truth. 

I  must  not  conclude  this  chapter  without  giving  ray  reader 
an  additional  paragraph  about  the  Newcomb  Farm.  My  friend 
Steuben  Hewitt's  nearest  neighbor  is  eight  miles  off,  and  as  his 
family  is  small,  it  may  be  supposed  that  he  leads  a  retired  life. 
One  of  the  days  that  I  spent  at  his  house,  was  quite  an  event- 
ful one  with  him,  for  a  town  election  was  held  there.  The  elec- 
tors met  at  nine  o'clock,  and  the  poll  closed  at  five ;  and  as  the 
number  of  votes  polled  was  seven,  it  may  well  bo  imagined  that 
the  excitement  was  intense.  But  with  all  its  loneliness  the 
Newcomb  Farm  is  well  worth  visiting,  if  for  no  other  purpose 
than  10  witness  the  panorama  of  mountains  Avhich  it  commands. 
On  every  side  but  one  may  they  be  seen,  fading  away  to  mingle 
their  deep  blue  with  the  lighter  hue  of  the  sky,  but  the  chief 
among  them  all  is  old  Tahawus,  King  of  the  Adirondacs.  The 
country  out  of  which  this  mountain  rises,  is  an  imposing  Alpine 
wilderness,  and  as  it  has  long  since  been  abandoned  by  the  red 
man,  the  solitude  of  its  deep  valleys  and  lonely  lakes  for  the 
most  part,  is  now  more  impressive  than  that  of  the  far  off 
Rocky  Mountains.  The  meaning  of  the  Indian  word  Tahawus 
is  sky  piercer  ov  skii  splitter ;  and  faithfully  describes  the  .ip- 
pearance  of  the  mountain.  Its  actual  elevation  above  the  level 
of  the  sea  is  five  thousand  four  hundred  and  sixty-seven  feet, 
while  that  of  Mount  Washington,  in  New  Hampshire,  is  only 
six  thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-four,  maklnjj;  a  difference 
of  only  seven  hundred  and  sixty-seven  feet  in  favor  of  Waiih- 
ington.  Though  Tahawus  is  not  quite  so  lofty  as  its  New  Eng- 
land brother,  yet  its  form  is  by  far  the  most  picturesque  and 
imposing.  Taken  together,  thoy  are  the  highest  pair  of  moun- 
tains in  the  United  States ;  and  while  the  former  may  justly 
look  with  pride  upon  its  Lake  Winnipcsockee  and  Merrimack 
and  Saoo  rivers,  the  latter  may  well  glory  in  its  splendid 
Hudson,  and  its  not  less  beautiful  lakes — Long  Lake,  llaquette 
Lake  and  Lake  Pleasant. 

Before  going  one  step  further,  I  must  allude  to  what  I  deem 


mm 

I      V  iiVj  1..:  u 


f"lt  I 


M<«i| 


M 


224 


THE  ADIRONDAC  MOUNT  aNS. 


the  folly  of  a  certain  state  geologist,  in  attempting  to  name  the 
prominent  peaks  of  the  Adirondac  Mountains  after  a  brother- 
hood of  living  men.  If  he  is  to  have  his  way  in  this  matter, 
the  beautiful  name  of  Tahawus  will  be  superseded  by  that  of 
Marcy,  and  several  of  Tahawus'  brethren  are  hereafter  to  be 
known  as  Mounts  Seward,  Wright  and  Young.  Now  if  this 
business  is  not  supremely  ridiculous,  I  must  confess  that  I  do 
not  know  the  meaning  of  that  word.  A  pretty  idea,  indeed, 
to  scatter  to  the  winds  the  ancient  poetry  of  the  poor  Indian, 
and  perpetuate  in  its  place  the  names  of  living  politicians.  For 
my  part,  I  agree  most  decidedly  with  the  older  inhabitants  of 
the  Adirondac  wilderness,  who  look  with  decided  indiflference 
upon  the  attempted  usurpation  of  the  geologist  mentioned. 

For  nine  months  in  the  year  old  Tahawus  is  covered  with  a 
crown  of  snow,  but  there  are  spots  among  its  fastnesses  where 
you  may  gather  ice  and  snow  even  in  the  dog  days.  The  base 
of  this  mountain  is  covered  with  a  luxuriant  forest  of  pine, 
spruce  and  hemlock,  while  the  uummit  is  clothed  in  a  net-work 
of  creeping  trees,  and  almost  destitute  of  the  groeu  which 
should  characterize  them.  In  ascending  its  sides  when  near 
the  summit,  you  are  impressed  with  the  idea  that  your  pathway 
may  bo  smooth ;  but  as  you  proceed,  you  are  constantly  annoy- 
ed by  pit- falls,  into  which  your  legs  are  foolishly  poking  them- 
selves, to  the  great  annoyance  of  your  back  bono  end  other 
portions  of  your  body  which  are  naturally  straight. 

I  ascended  Tahawus,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  in  making 
the  trip  I  travelled  some  twenty  miles  on  foot  and  through  the 
pathless  woods,  employing  for  the  same  the  beUer  part  of  two 
days.  My  comf)anion  on  this  expedition  was  John  Cheney,  (of 
whom  I  have  something  to  write  hereafter,)  and  us  he  did  not 
consider  it  priident  to  spend  the  night  on  the  summit,  we  only 
spent  one  hour  gazing  upon  thj  panorama  from  the  top,  and 
then  descended  about  half  way  down  the  mountain  where  we 
built  our  watch  fire.  The  view  from  Tahawus  is  rather  unique. 
It  looks  down  upon  what  appears  to  be  an  uninhabited  wilder- 
ness, with  mountains,  fading  to  the  sky  in  every  direction,  and 
where,  on  a  clear  day,  you  may  count  not  less  than  twenty-four 


THE  ADIRONDAC  MOUNTAINS. 


225 


lakes,  including  Champlain,  Horicon,  Long  Lake  and  Lake 
Pleasant. 

While  trymg  to  go  to  sleep  on  the  night  in  question,  a9  I  lay 
by  the  side  of  my  friend  Cheney,  he  gave  me  an  account  of  the 
manner  in  -which  certain  distinguished  gentlemen  have  ascended 
Mount  Tahawus,  for  it  must  be  known  that  he  officiates  as  the 
guide  of  all  travellers  in  this  wild  region.  Among  those  to 
whom  he  alluded  were  Ingham  and  Cole,  the  artists,  and  Hoff- 
man and  Headley,  the  travellers.  He  told  me  that  Mr.  Ing- 
ham fainted  a  number  of  times  in  making  the  ascent,  but  became 
80  excited  with  all  he  saw,  he  determined  to  persevere,  and 
finally  succeeded  in  accomplishing  the  difficult  task.  Mr.  Hoff- 
man, he  said,  in  spite  of  his  lameness,  would  not  be  persuaded 
by  words  that  he  could  not  reach  the  summit ;  rtud  when  he 
finally  discovered  that  this  task  was  utterly  beyond  his  accom- 
plishment, his  disappointment  seemed  '.;o  have  no  bounds. 

The  night  that  I  spent  on  Tahawus  was  not  distinguished  by 
any  event  more  remarkable  than  a  regular  built  rain-storm. 
Our  canopy  was  composed  of  hemlock  branches,  and  our  only 
covering  was  a  blanket.  The  storm  did  not  set  in  until  about 
midnight,  and  my  first  intimat'.on  of  its  approach  was  the  fall- 
ing of  rain  drops'  directly  into  my  ear,  as  I  snugged  up  to  my 
bed-fellow  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  warm.  Desperate,  in- 
deed, were  the  efforts  I  moole  to  forget  my  condition  in  sleep, 
as  the  rain  fell  more  abundantly,  and  drenched  me,  as  well  as 
my  companion,  to  the  very  skin.  The  thunder  bellowed  as  if 
in  the  enjoyment  of  a  very  happy  frolic,  and  the  lightning 
seemed  determined  to  root  up  a  few  trees  in  our  immediate 
vicinity,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  giving  us  more  room.  Finally 
Cheney  rose  from  his  pillow,  (which  was  a  log  of  wood,)  and 
proposed  that  we  should  quaff  a  little  brandy,  to  keep  us  from 
catching  cold,  which  we  did,  and  then  made  another  attempt  to 
reach  the  land  of  Nod.  *  *  *  At  the  break  of  day  we 
were  awakened  from  a  short  but  refreshing  sleep,  by  the  sing- 
ing of  birds,  and  when  the  cheerful  sunlight  had  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  ravines,  we  were  enjoying  a  comfortable  break- 
fast in  the  cabin  of  my  friend. 
16 


"Na»a-:.r' 


226 


THE  ADIRONDAC  MODMTAINB. 


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The  principal  attractions  assoohtcd  with  Tihawus,  are  the 
Indian  Pass,  the  Adirondac  LaLv  ■,  the  Adirornlijv:  iron  -works, 
and  t^e  mighty'  hunter  of  tho  AJiros' licf,  Tohr  Cli^ney.  f'hc 
Pass,  so  called,  is  only  an  okl-fashioni;d  notth' between  the 
\tiountains.  <.)n  one  siue  is  a  p'jrpendicular  precipice,  risirrr  to 
the  iicight  of  .leven  hundred  feet ;  and,  on  the  other,  a  ■wood- 
covered  mountain,  .uscending  far  up  into  tbo  sky,  at  an  angle 
of  fortv-five  degi''^ea.  Thiough  this  pass  i'ows  a  tiny  rivulet, 
over  which  the  rocks  ar-^  no  thickly  pi)  ^  as  frequently  to  form 
pitfall?  that  measure  froin  ten  to  thirtv  feet  iu  depth.  Some 
of  these  holes  are  never  dcetiiute  of  ice,  and  are  cool  and  com- 
fortable even  at  midsumtuer.  The  Pass  is  nearly  half  a  mile 
in  length,  and,  at  one  [toint,  certain  immentio  boulders  have 
come  together  and  formt-il  a  cavern,  which  is  called  the  "  meet- 
ing house,"  and  is,  perhnp;-),  capable  of  containing  one  thousand 
people.  The  rock  on  eiibor  side  of  the  Pass  is  a  gray  granite, 
and  its  only  inhabitants  arc  eagles,  which  are  quite  abundant, 
and  occupy  the  most  conspicuous  crag  in  the  notch. 

The  two  principal  lakes  wliich  gem  this  immediate  portion  of 
thQ  Adirondac  wilderness,  are  named  Sanford  and  Henderson, 
after  the  two  gentlemen  who  first  purchased  land  upon  their 
borders.  The  former  is  five  miles  in  length,  and  the  latter 
somewhat  less  than  three,  both  of  them  varying  in  width  from 
half  a  mile  to  a. mile  and  a  half.  The  mountains  which  swoop 
down  to  their  bosoms  are  covered  with  forest,  and  abound  in  a 
great  variety  of  large  game.  There  is  not,  to  my  knowledge, 
a  single  habitation  on  either  of  the  lakes,  and  the  only  smoke 
ever  seen  to  ascend  from  their  lonely  recesses,  comes  from  the 
watch-fire  of  the  hunter,  or  the  encampment  of  surveyors  and 
and  tourists.  The  water  of  these  lakes  is  cold  and  deep,  and 
moderately  supplied  with  salmon  trout.  Lake  Henderson  is 
admirably  situated  for  the  exciting  sport  of  deer  hunting,  and 
though  it  contains  two  or  three  canoes,  cannot  be  entered  from 
the  West  Branch  of  the  Hudson  without  making  a  portage. 
Through  Lake  Sanford,  however,  the  Hudson  takes  a  direct 
course,  and  there  is  nothing  to  impede  the  passage  of  a  small 
boat  to  within  a  mile  of  the  iron  works,  which  are  located  in  a 


THE  ADIRONBAC  MOUNTAINS. 


227 


valley  between  the  two  lakes.  The  fact  is,  during  the  summer 
there  is  quite  an  extensive  business  done  on  Lake  Sanford,  in 
the  way  of  "  bringing  in"  merchandise,  and  "  cai*rying  out"  the 
produce  of  the  forge.  It  was  my  misfortune  to  make  the  in- 
ward passage  ot  the  lake  in  company  with  two  ignorant  Irish- 
men. Their  boat  was  small,  heavily  laden,  very  tottery  and 
leaky.  This  was  my  only  chance  ;  and  on  taking  my  seat  with 
a  palpitating  heart,  I  made  an  express  bargain  with  the  men, 
that  they  should  keep  along  the  shore  on  their  way  up.  They 
verbally  assented  to  my  wishes,  but  immediately  pulled  for  the 
very  centre  of  the  lake.  I  remonstrated,  but  they  told  me 
there  was  no  danger.  The  boat  was  now  rapidly  filling  with 
water,  and  though  one  was  bailing  with  all  his  might,  the  ras- 
cals were  determined  not  to  accede  to  my  wishes.  The  conclu- 
sion of  the  matter  was  that  our  shallop  became  water-logged, 
and  on  finally  reaching  the  shore,  the  merchandise  vas  greatly 
damaged,  and  I  was  just  about  as  wet  as  I  was  an^ry  at  the 
miserable  creatures,  whose  obstinacy  had  not  only  greatly  in- 
jured their  employers,  but  also  endangered  my  own  plunder  as 
well  as  my  life. 

The  iron  works  alluded  to  above,  are  located  in  a  narrow  val- 
ley, and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Lake  Henderson,  at  a 
place  called  Mclntyre.  Some  time  in  the  year  1830,  a  couple 
of  Scottish  gentlemen,  named  Henderson  and  Mclntyre,  pur- 
chased a  large  tract  of  wild  land  lying  in  this  portion  of  New 
York.  In  the  summer  following,  they  passed  through  this  wil- 
derness on  an  exploring  expeditioii,  and  with  the  assistance  of 
their  IiMian  guide,  discovered  that  the  bed  of  the  valley  in  ques- 
tion was  literally  blocked  up  with  iron  ore.  On  making  farther 
investigations,  tho^  found  that  the  whole  rocky  region  about 
thorn  was  composed  of  Valuable  mineral,  and  they  subsequently 
established  a  regular-built  iron  establishment,  which  has  been 
in  operation  over  since.  A  gentleman  named  Robinson  after- 
wards purchased  an  interest  in  the  concern,  and  it  is  now  carried 
on  by  him  and  Mr.  Mclntyre,  though  the  principal  stockholders 
are  the  wife  and  son  of  Mr.  Henderson,  deceased. 

The  metal  manufactured  by  this  company  is  of  the  very  best 


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228 


THE  ADIBONDAO  MOUNTAINS. 


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quality  of  bar-iron ;  and  an  establishment  is  now  in  progress  of 
erection  at  Tabawus,  twelve  miles  down  the  river,  where  a 
party  of  English  gentlemen  intend  to  manufacture  every  variety 
of  steel.  The  iron  works  here  give  employment  to  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  men,  whose  wages  vary  from  one  to  four  dol- 
lars per  day.  The  society  of  the  place,  you  may  well  imagine, 
is  decidedly  original ;  but  the  prominent  individual,  anci  only 
remarkable  man  who  resides  here,  is  John  Cheney,  the  mighty 
hunter  of  the  Adirondaos.  For  an  account  of  this  man,  the 
reader  will  please  look  into  the  following  chapter. 


THE   ADIRONDAC   HUNTER. 


John  Cheney  was  born  in  New  Hampshire,  but  spent  his 
boyhood  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  has  resided  in 
the  Adirondac  wilderness  about  thirteen  years.  He  has  a  wife 
and  one  child,  and  lives  in  a  comfortable  cabin  in  the  wild  vil- 
lage of  Mclntyre.  His  profession  is  that  of  a  hunter,  and  he 
is  in  the  habit  of  spending  about  one-half  of  his  time  in  the 
woods.  He  is  a  remarkably  amiable  and  intelligent  man,  and 
as  unlike  the  idea  I  had  formed  of  him  as  possible.  I  expected 
from  all  that  I  had  heard,  to  see  a  huge,  powerful,  and  hairy 
Nimrod ;  but,  instead  of  such,  I  found  him  small  in  stature, 
bearing  more  the  appearance  of  a  modest  and  thoughtful  stu- 
*  dent,  gentle  in  his  monners,  and  as  devoted  a  lover  of  nature 
and  soliiade  as  ever  lived. 

The  walls  of  his  cosey  Mttle  house,  containing  one  principal 
room,  are  ornamented  with  a.  large  printed  sheet  of  the  Declar- 
ation of  Independence,  and  two  engraved  portraits  of  Wash- 
ington and  Jackson.  Of  guns  and  pistols  he  has  an  abundant 
supply,  and  also  a  good  stock  of  all  the  conveniences  for  camp- 
ing among  the  mountains.  He  keeps  one  cow,  which  supplies 
his  family  with  all  the  milk  they  need ;  but  his  favorite  animals 
are  a  couple  of  hunting  dogs,  named  Buck  and  Tiger. 

As  summer  is  not  the  time  to  accomplish  much  in  the  way  of 
hunting,  my  adventures  with  John  Cheney  have  not  been  dis- 
tinguished by  any  stirring  events ;  we  have,  however,  enjoyed 
some  rare  sport  in  the  way  of  fishing,  and  obtained  some  glori- 
ous views  from  the  mountain  peaks  of  this  region.  But  the  con- 
versation of  this  famous  Nimrod  has  interested  me  exceedingly, 


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230 


TUE  ADIRONDAC  HUNTER. 


and  wherever  we  might  be,  under  his  own  roof,  or^by  the  side 
of  our  mountain  watch-fires,  I  have  kept  him  '^usy  in  recount- 
ing his  former  adventures.  I  copied  into  my  note-book  nearly 
everything  he  said,  and  now  present  my  readers  with  a  few 
extracts  relating  to  his  hunting  exploits.  I  shall  use  his  own 
words,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  them. 

3fC  V  ^n  ^r  T*  1* 

"  I  was  always  fond  of  hunting,  and  the  first  animal  I  killed 
was  a  fox  ;  I  was  then  ten  years  of  age.  Even  from  childhood, 
I  was  so  in  love  with  the  woods  that  I  not  only  neglected 
school,  but  was  constantly  borrowing  a  gun,  or  stealing  the  one 
belonging  to  my  father,  with  which  to  follow  my  favorite  amuse- 
ment. Ho  found  it  a  useless  business  to  make  a  decent  boy  of 
me,  and  in  a  fit  of  desperation  he  one  day  presented  me  with  a 
common  fowling  piece.  I  was  the  youngest  of  thirteen  child- 
ren, and  was  always  called  the  black  sheep  of  the  family.  I 
have  always  enjoyed  good  health,  and  am  forty-seven  years  of 
age ;  but  I  have  now  passed  my  prime,  and  don't  care  about 
exposing  myself  to  any  useless  dangers. 

»T"  t*  •!*  T*  V  'I* 

"  You  ask  me  if  I  ever  hunt  on  Sunday ;  no,  sir,  I  do  not.  , 
I  have  always  been  able  to  kill  enough  on  week  days  to  give 
me  a  comfortable  living.  Since  I  came  to  live  among  the  Adi- 
rondacs.  I  have  killed  six  hundred  deer,  four  hundred  sable, 
nineteen  moose,  twenty-eight  hears,  six  wolves,  seven  wild  cats, 
thirty  otter,  one  panther  and  one  beaver, 

*(*  T*  T^  yr  ^  T^ 

"  As  to  that  beaver  I  was  speaking  about,  it  took  mo  tliree 
years  to  capture  him,  for  ho  was  an  old  fellow,  and  remarkably 
cunning.  He  was  the  last,  from  all  that  I  can  learn,  that  was 
ever  taken  in  the  State.  One  of  the  Long  Lake  Indians  often 
attempted  to  trap  him,  but  without  success  ;  he  usually  found 
his  trap  sprung,  but  could  never  get  a  morsel  of  the  beaver's 
tail ;  and  so  it  was  with  me,  too ;  but  I  finally  fixed  a  trap 
under  the  water,  near  the  entrance  to  his  dam,  and  it  so  hap- 
pened that  he  one  day  stepped  into  it  and  was  drowned. 


THE  ADIRONDAC  HUNTEK. 


231 


"  I  was  going  to  tell  you  something  about  my  dogs,  Buck 
and  Tiger.     I've  raised  some  fifty  of  these  animals  in  my  day, 
but  I  never  owned  such  a  tormented  smart  one  as  that  fellow 
Buck.     I  believe  there's  a  good  deal  of  the  English  mastiff  in 
him,  but  a  keener  eye  than  he  carries  in  his  head  I  never  saw. 
Only  look  at  that  breast  of  his  ;  did  you  ever  see  a  thicker  or 
more  solid  one  ?    He's  handsomely  spotted,  as  you  may  see, 
but  some  of  the  devilish  Lake  Pleasant  Indians  cut  off  his  ears 
and  tail  about  a  year  ago,  and  he  now  looks  rather  odd.     You 
may  not  believe  it,  but  I  have  seen  a  good  many  men  who  were 
not  half  as  sensible  as  that  very  dog.     Whenever  the  fellow's 
hungry  he  always  seats  himself  at  my  feet  and  gives  three 
short  barks,  which  is  his  way  of  telling  me  that  he  would  like 
some  bread  and  meat.     If  the  folks  happen  to  be  away  from 
home,  and  he  feels  a  little  sharp,  he  pays  a  regular  visit  to  all 
the  houses  in  the  village,  and  after  playing  with  the  children, 
barks  for  a  dry  crust,  which  he  always  receives,  and  then  comes 
back  to  his  own  home.     He's  quite  a  favorite  among  the  chil- 
,dren,  and  I've  witnessed  more  than  one  fight  because  some 
wicked  little  scamp  had  thrown  a  stone  at  him.     When  I  speak 
to  him  he  understands  me  just  as  well  as  you  do.     I  can  wake 
him  out  of  a  sound  sleep,  and  by  my  s»ying,  '  Buck,  go  up 
and  kiss  the  baby,'  he  will  march  directly  to  the  cradle  and  lick 
the  baby's  face ;  and  the  way  he  watches  that  baby  when  it's 
asleep,  is  perfectly  curious, — he'd  tear  you  to  pieces  in  three 
minutes  if  you  were  to  try  to  take  it  away.     Buck  is  now  four 
years  old,  and  though  he's  helped  me  to  kill  several  hundred 
deer,  he  never  lost  one  for  me  yet.     Whenever  I  go  a-hunting, 
and  don't  want  him  along,  I  have  only  to  say,  '  Buck,  you  must 
not  go,' — and  he  remains  quiet :  there's  no  use  in  chaining 
him,  I  tell  you,  for  he  understands  his  business.     This  dog 
never  starts  after  a  deer  until  I  tell  him  to  go,  even  if  the  deer 
is  in  sight.     Why  'twas  only  the  other  day  that  Tiger  brought 
in  a  doe  to  Lake  Colden,  where  the  two  had  a  desperate  fight 
within  one  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  Buck  and  myself 
were  seated.     I  wanted  to  try  the  mettle  of  Tiger,  and  told 
Buck  he  must  not  stir,  though  I  went  up  to  the  doe  to  see  what 


282 


THE  ADIRONDAO  HUNTER. 


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the  result  would  be  between  the  fighters.  Buck  didn't  movo 
out  of  his  tracks,  but  the  way  he  howled  for  a  little  taste  of 
blood  was  perfectly  awful.  I  almost  thought  the  fellow  would 
die  in  his  agony.  Buck  is  of  great  use  to  me,  when  I  am  off 
hunting,  in  more  ways  than  one.  If  I  happen  to  be  lost  in  a 
snow  storm,  which  is  sometime  the  case,  I  only  have  to  tell 
him  to  go  home,  and  if  I  follow  his  tracks  I  am  sure  to  come 
out  in  safety ;  and  when  sleeping  in  the  woods  at  night,  I  never 
have  any  other  pillow  than  Buck's  body.  As  to  my  black  dog 
Tiger,  he  isn't  quite  two  years  old  yet,  but  he's  going  to  make 
a  great  hunter.  I  am  trying  hard  now-a-days  to  break  him  of 
a  very  foolish  habit  of  killing  porcupines.  Not  only  does  he 
attack  every  one  he  sees,  but  he  goes  out  to  hunt  them,  and 
often  comes  home  all  covered  with  their  quills.  It  was  only 
the  other  day  that  he  came  home  with  about  twenty  quills 
working  their  way  into  his  snout.  It  so  happened,  however, 
that  they  did  not  kill  him,  because  he  let  me  pull  them  all  out 
with  a  pair  of  pincers,  and  that  too  without  budging  an  inch. 
About  the  story  people  tell,  that  the  porcupine  throws  its. 
quills,  I  can  tell  you  it's  no  such  thing, — it  is  only  when  the 
quills  touch  the  dog,  that  they  come  out  and  work  their  way 
through  his  body.     » 

^f  *  *  4^  *  * 

"  As  to  deer  hunting,  I  can  tell  you  more  stories  in  that  line 
than  you'd  care  about  hearing.  They  have  several  ways  of 
killing  them  in  this  quarter,  and  some  of  their  ways  arc  so  in- 
fernal mean,  I'm  surprised  that  there  should  be  any  deer  left 
in  the  country.  In  the  first  place,  there's  the  '  still  hunting' 
fashion,  when  you  lay  in  ambush  near  a  salt-lick,  and  shoot  the 
poor  creatures  when  they're  not  thinking  of  you.  And  there's 
the  beastly  manner  of  blinding  them  with  a  '  torch-light'  when 
they  come  into  the  lakes  to  cool  themselves,  and  get  away  from 
the  flies,  during  the  warm  nights  of  summer.  Now  I  say,  that 
no  decent  man  will  take  this  advantage  of  wild  game,  unless  he 
is  in  a  starving  condition.  The  only  manly  way  to  kill  deer  is 
by  '  driving'  them,  as  I  do,  with  a  couple  of  hounds. 

"  There  isn't  a  creature  in  this  whole  wilderness  that  I  think 


THK  ADIRONDAC  HUNTER. 


288 


so  much  of  as  a  deer.  They  are  so  beautiful,  with  their  bright 
eyes,  graceful  necks,  and  sinewy  legs  ;  and  they  are  so  swift, 
and  make  such  splendid  leaps  when  hard  pressed ;  why,  I've 
seen  a  buck  jump  from  a  cliff  that  was  forty  feet  high,  and 
that,  too,  without  injuring  a  hair.  I  wish  I  could  get  my  living 
without  killing  this  beautiful  animal ! — but  I  must  live,  and  I 
suppose  they  were  made  to  die.  The  cry  of  the  deer,  when  in 
the  agonies  of  death,  is  the  awfulest  sound  I  ever  heard ; — I'd 
a  good  deal  rather  hear  the  scream  of  the  panther,  provided  I 
have  a  ball  in  m^  pistol,  and  the  pistol  is  in  my  hand.  I  wish 
they  would  never  speak  so. 

"  The  time  for  taking  deer  is  in  the  fall  and  winter.  It's  a 
curious  fact,  that  when  a  deer  is  at  all  frightened,  he  cannot 
stand  upon  smooth  ice,  while,  at  the  same  time,  when  not  afraid 
of  being  caught,  he  will  not  only  walk,  but  actually  trot  across 
a  lake  as  smooth  as  glass.  It's  a  glorious  sight  to  see  them 
running  dbwn  the  mountains,  with  the  dogs  howlin,^  behind ; 
but  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  more  beautiful  race  t*^ .  1 1  once 
did  on  Lake  Henderson,  between  a  buck-deer  and  my  dog 
Buck,  when  the  lake  was  covered  with  a  light  fall  of  snow. 
I  had  put  Buck  upon  a  fresh  track,  and  was  waiting  for  him 
on  the  laks  shore.  Presently,  a  splendid  deer  bounded  out  of 
the  woods  upon  the  ice,  and  as  the  dog  was  only  a  few  paces 
off,  he  led  the  race  directly  across  the  lake.  Away  they  ran 
as  if  a  hurricane  was  after  them  ;  crossed  the  lake,  then  back 
again.  Then  they  made  another  wheel,  and  having  run  to 
the  extreme  southern  point  of  the  lake,  again  returned,  when 
the  deer's  wind  gave  out,  and  the  dog  caught  and  threw  the 
creature,  into  whose  throat  I  soon  plunged  my  knife,  and  the 
race  was  ended. 

"  I  never  was  so  badly  hurt  in  hunting  any  animal  as  1 
have  been  in  hunting  deer.  It  was  while 'chasing  a  buck  on 
Cheney's  Lake,  (which  was  named  after  me  by  Mr.  Henderson 
in  commemoration  of  my  escape,)  that  I  once  shot  myself  in  a 
very  bad  way.  I  was  in  a  canoe,  and  had  laid  my  pistol  down 
by  my  side,  when,  as  I  was  pressing  hard  upon  the  animal,  my 
pistol  slipped  under  me  in  some  queer  way,  and  went  off,  send- 


CWii,. 


m 


»* 


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284 


THE  ADIROKDAC  HUNTER. 


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'HIS' 


ing  a  ball  into  my  leg,  just  above  the  ankle,  'which  came  out 
just  below  the  knee.  I  knew  something  terrible  had  happened, 
and  though  I  thought  that  I'  might  die,  I  was  determined  that 
the  deer  should  die  first ;  and  I  did  succeed  in  killing  him  be- 
fore he  reached  the  shore.  But,  soon  as  the  excitement  was 
over,  the  pain  I  felt  before  was  increased  a  thousand-fold,  and 
I  felt  as  if  all  the  devils  in  hell  were  dragging  at  my  leg,  the 
weight  and  the  agony  were  so  great.  I  had  never  suffered  so 
before,  and  I  thought  it  strange.  You  may  not  believe  it, 
but  when  that  accident  happened,  I  was  fourteen  miles  from 
home,  and  yet,  even  with  that  used-up  leg,  I  succeeded  in 
reaching  my  home,  where  1  was  confined  to  my  bed  from  Oc- 
tober until  April.  That  was  a  great  winter  for  hunting  which 
I  missed  ;  but  my  leg  got  entirely  well,  and  is  now  as  good  as 

ever. 

*  *  *        .*..;,,  i-m  ■  >  * 

The  most  savage  animal  that  I  hunt  for  among  thfese  moun- 
tains is  the  moose,  or  caraboo,  as  I  have  heard  some  people 
call  ♦^hem  by  mistake.  They're  quite  plenty  in  the  region  of 
Long  Lake  and  Lake  Pleasant ;  and  if  the  hunter  don't  under- 
^stand  their  ways,  he'll  be  likely  to  get  killed  before  he  thinks 
of  his  danger.  The  moose  is  the  largest  animal  of  the  deer 
kind,  or,  in  fact,  of  any  kind  that  we  find  in  this  part  of  the 
country.  His  horns  arc  very  large,  and  usually  look  like  a 
pair  of  crab-apple  trees.  He  has  a  long  head,  long  legs,  arid 
makes  a  great  noise  when  he  travels ;  his  flesh  is  considered 
first  ra»,c,  for  he  feeds  upon  grass,  and  the  tender  buds  of  the 
moose  mople.  Ho  is  a  rapid  traveler,  and  hard  to  tire  out. 
In  winter  they  run  in  herds ;  and  when  the  snow  is  deep,  tlicy 
generally  live  in  one  particular  place  in  the  woods  which  we 
call  a  '  yard.'  The  crack  time  for  killing  them  is  tho  winter, 
when  wo  can  travel  "on  tho  snow  Avith  our  braided  snow  shoes. 
But  moose  arc  in  good  condition  in  the  fall,  and  I  can  toll  you 
that  a  dead  moose,  on  a  bed  of  yellow  leaves,  is  one  of  tho 
prettiest  sights  in  the  world. 

"  I  once  killed  twomooso  before  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
I  had  boon  out  a  hunting  for  two  days,  in  the  winter,  and  when 


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ovrr,  i'j'- |>:\!';  J  l'')'     ftii''  w.    ir, -nn-' ■':  h  thi><iM;\'.'.  '' . 

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•  "•t'"r<',  nv.A   i   tlii'tiglii  i:  yifaop}.     V  r    .ii.i_.     .  •-    'c' 
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Vv'vrlii.'jg  n:y  lit>rn<'   v.  !if>it    '  -V'  i..-.  coiiiint'fl   ■•>  ts>;    !■ 
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THE  ADIRONDAC  HUNTER. 


235 


night  came  on,  I  had  to  camp  out  near  tlio  foot  of  old  Tahawus. 
When  I  got  up  in  the  morning,  and  was  about  to  start  for 
home,  I  discovered  a  yard,  where  lay  a  couple  of  bull  moose. 
I  don't  know  what  they  were  thinking  about,  but  just  as  soon 
its  they  saw  me,  they  jumped  up,  and  made  directly  towards  the 
place  where  I  was  standing.  I  couldn't  get  clear  of  their  ugly 
feet  without  running,  so  I  put  for  a  large  dead  tree  that  had 
blown  over,  and  walking  to  the  butt-  end  of  it,  which  was  some 
ten  feet  high,  looked  down  in  safety  upon  the  devils.  They 
seemed  to  be  very  mad  about  something,  and  did  everything 
they  could  to  get  at  me,  by  running  around  ;  and  I  remember 
they  ran  together,  as  if  they  had  been  yoked.  I  waited  for  a 
good  chance  to  shoot,  and  when  I  got  it,  fired  a  ball  clear 
through  one  of  the  animals,  into  the  shoulder  of  the  second. 
The  first  one  dropped  dead  as  a  door  nail,  but  the  other  took  to 
his  heels,  and  after  going  about  fifty  rods,  concluded  to  lie 
down.  I  then  came  up  to  him,  keeping  my  dogs  back  for  the 
purpose  of  sticking  him,  when  he  jumped  up  again,  and  put 
after  me  like  lightning.  I  ran  to  a  big  stump,  and  after  I  had 
fairly  fixed  myself,  I  loaded  again,  and  again  fired,  when  the 
follow  tumbled  in  the  snow  quite  dead.  He  was  eight  feet  high, 
and  a  perfect  roarer.  * 

1)1  «  iti  *  *  * 

"  Another  animal  that  we  sometimes  find  pretty  plenty  in 
those  woods,  is,  the  big  grey  wolf;  they  are  savage  fellows,  and 
dangerous  to  meet  with  when  angry.  On  getting  up  early  one 
winter  morning,  I  noticed,  in  the  back  part  of  my  garden, 
what  r  thought  to  bo  a  wolf  track.  I  got  my  gun,  called 
for  my  dogs,  and  started  on  the  hunt.  I  found  the  fellow  in 
his  den  among  the  mountains.  I  kindled  a  fire,  and  smoked 
him  out.  I  then  chased  him  for  about  two  miles,  Avhen  he  came 
to  bay.  IIo  was  a  big  follow,  and  my  dogs  were  afraid  to 
olinoh  in; — dogs  hate  a  wolf  worse  than  any  other  animal.  I 
found  I  had  a  fair  chance,  so  I  fired  at  the  creature ;  but  my 
ffm  missed  fire.  The  wolf  then  attacked  me,  and  in  striking 
liim  with  my  guii,  I  broke  it  all  to  pieces.  I  Avas  in  a  bad  fix, 
I  tell  you,  but  I  immodiatcly  threw  inyaolf  on  my  back,  with 


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236 


THB  ADIRONDAC  HUNTER. 


my  snow  shoes  above  me,  when  the  wolf  jumped  right  on  to  my 
body,  and,  probably,  would  have  killed  me,  had  it  not  been  for 
my  dog  Buck,  who  worried  the  wolf  so  badly,  that  the  devil  left 
me,  to  fight  the  dog.  While  they  were  fighting  with  all  their 
might,  I  jumped  up,  took  the  barrel  of  my  gun,  and  settled  it 
right  into  the  brain  of  the  savage  animal.  That  was  the  larg- 
est wolf  ever  killed  in  this  wilderness. 

^  ^  V  1*  n*  ^r 

"  One  of  the  hardest  fights  I  ever  had  in  these  woods  was 
with  a  black  bear.  I  was  coming  from  a  winter  hunt.  The 
snow  was  very  deep,  and  I  had  on  my  snow-shoes.  It  so  hap- 
pened, as  I  was  coming  down  a-  certain  mountain,  the  snow  sud- 
denly gave  way  under  me,  and  I  fell  into  the  hole  or  winter 
quarters  of  one  of  the  blackest  and  largest  bears  I  ever  saw. 
The  fellow  was  quite  as  much  frightened  as  I  was,  and  he  scam- 
pered out  of  the  den  in  a  great  hurry.  I  was  very  tired,  and 
had  only  one  dog  with  rac  at  the  time,  but  I  put  after  him.  I 
had  three  several  battles  with  him,  and  in  one  of  these  he  struck 
my  hand  ivith  such  force  as  to  send  my  gun  at  least  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  from  where  we  stood.  I  finally  managed  to  kill 
the  rascal,  however,  but  not  until  he  had  almost  destroyed  the 
life  of  my  dog.*  That  was  a  noble  dog ;  but  in  that  battle  lie 
received  his  death-wound.  lie  couldn't  walk  at  the  time,  and 
though  I  was  nine  miles  from  home,  I  took  him  up  in  my  arms 
and  brought  him ;  but  with  all  my  nursing  I  could  not  get  him 
up  again,  for  he  died  a',;  the  end  of  a  few  weeks.  That  dog  wu.^ 
one  of  the  best  friends  I  ever  had. 

«  *  *  *  *  * 

"But  the  most  dangerous  animal  in  this  country  is  the  yel- 
low pan;t.i>ir  or  painter.  They  are  not  very  plenty,  and  so  tor- 
mented cunning  that  it  is  very  ioldom  you  can  kill  one.  Thoy 
are  very  ugly,  but  don't  often  attack  a  man  unless  cornered  or 
wounded.  They  look  and  act  very  much  like  a  cat,  only  that 
they  are  very  large ;  I  never  killed  but  one,  and  his  bouy  was 
five  feet  long,  and  liis  tail  botweeu  three  and  four.  At  nigbt 
their  eyes  look  like  balls  of  fire,  and  when  they  are  after  game 
they  make  a  hissing  noise,  which  is  very  dreadful  to  hear. 


THE  ADIRONDAO  HUNTER. 


237 


Their  scream  is  also  very  terrible,  and  I  never  saw  the  man 
who  was  anxious  to  hear  it  more  than  once.  They  are  seldom 
hunted  as  a  matter  of  business,  but  usually  killed  by  accident. 
"  The  panther  I  once  killed,  I  came  across  in  this  manner. 
I  was  out  on  Lake  Henderson  with  two  men,  catching  fish 
through  the  ice,  when  we  saw  two  wolves  come  on  to  the  ice 
in  great  haste,  looking  and  acting  as  if  they  had  been  pursued. 
I  pi'oposed  to  the  men  that  we  should  all  go  and  kill  them  if  we 
could.  They  wanted  ^o  fish,  or  were  a  little  afraid,  so  I  took 
my  gun  and  started  aftt"  the  game.  I  followed  them  some 
distance,  when,  as  they  wero  scaling  a  ledge,  they  were  attacked 
by  a  big  panther,  and  a  bloody  fight  took  place.  From  the 
appearance  of  the  animals,  I  sv  nposed  that  they  had  met  be- 
fore, which  was  the  cause  why  tl  o  wolves  came  upon  the  la]:e. 
During  the  scuffle  between  the  i  niraals,  it  is  a  singular  fact 
that  they  all  three  tumbled  off  the  precipice  and  fell  through 
the  air  about  one  huni'rcd  feet.  Thv'  wolves  jumped  up  and 
ran  away,  while  the  panther  started  in  another  direction.  T 
followed  his  track,  and  after  traveling  a  number  of  hours,  over- 
took him,  and  managed  to  shoot  bin  through  the  shoulder. 
He  then  got  into  a  tree,  and  as  he  was  lashing  his  tail  and  get- 
ting ready  to  pounce  upon  me,  I  gave  him  another  ball,  and  he 
fell  to  the  earth  with  a  crash,  and  was  quite  dead.  I  then 
went  to  the  lake  and  got  the  men  to  help  me  home  with  my 
liooty. 


i 

Hi 

M 

3Klii|ii| 

■'  Jr  ■  r ,' I  "^ 

m 

f¥'^^ 


inr    ••  J  i 


LAKE    CHAMPLAIN. 


I 


Of  all  the  towns  Athich  I  have  seen,  Burlington,  in  Vermont, 
is  decidedly  one  of  the  most  beautiful.  It  stands  on  the  shore 
of  Lake  Champlain,  and  from  the  water  to  its  eastern  extremity 
is  a  regular  elevation,  which  rises  to  the  height  of  some  three  hun- 
dred feet.  Its  streets  are  broad  and  regularly  laid  out ;  the 
generality  of  its  buildings  elegant,  and  its  inhabitants  well  edu- 
cated, refined  and  wealthy.  My  visit  here  is  now  about  to 
close,  and  I  cannot  but  follow  the  impulses  of  my  heart,  by 
giving  my  reader  a  brief  account  of  its  principal  picturesque 
attractions,  and  some  information  concerning  a  few  if  its  pub- 
lic men. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  my  first  subject  is  Lake  Champlain. 
In  approaching  it  from  the  south,  and  particularly  from  Hori- 
con,  one  is  apt  to  form  a  wrong  opinion  of  its  pictm-esque  fea- 
tures ;  but  you  cannot  pass  through  it  without  being  lavish  in 
its  praise.  It  extends,  in  a  straight  line  from  south  to  north, 
somewhat  over  an  hundred  miles,  and  lies  between  the  States 
of  New  York  and  Vermont.  It  is  the  gateway  between  the 
country  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  that  on  the  Hudson,  and  :.; 
is,  therefore,  extensively  navigated  by  vessels  and  steamboats. 
It  is  surrounded  with  flourishing  villages,  whose  population  is 
generally  made  up  of  New  Englanders  anil  Canadians.  Its 
width  varies  from  half  a  mile  to  thirteen ;  but  its  Avaters  are 
muddy,  excepting  in  the  vicinity  of  Burlington.  Its  islands 
nre  not  numerous,  but  one  of  them,  drand  Isle,  ia  sufficiently 
largo  to  support  four  villages.  Its  scenery  may  be  denomina- 
ted bold ;  on  the  west  are  tlio  Adirondac  Mountains,  and  at 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


239 


some  distance  on  the  east,  the  beautiful  Green  Mountains, 
whose  glorious  commanders  are  Mansfield  Mountain  and  the 
Carael's  Hump.  Owing  to  the  width  of  the  lake  at  Burlington, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  western  mountains,  the  sunsets  that  are 
here  visible,  are  exceedingly  superb. 

The  classic  associations  of  this  lake  are  uncommonly  inter- 
esting. Here  are  the  moss-covered  ruins  of  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point,  whose  present  occupants  are  the  snake,  the 
lizard  and  toad.  Leaden  and  iron  balls,  broken  bayonets,  and 
English  flints  have  I  picked  up  on  their  ramparts,  which  I  can- 
not look  upon  without  thinking  of  death  struggles  and  the  hor- 
rible shout  of  Avar.  And  there,  too,  is  Plattsburgh,  in  whose 
waters  Commodore  McDonough  vindicated  the  honor  of  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  of  Freedom.  As  to  the  fishing  of  this  lake, 
I  have  but  a  word  to  say.  Excepting  trout,  almost  every  va- 
riety of  fresh  water  fish  is  found  hero  in  abundance  ;  but  the 
water  is  not  pure,  which  is  ever  a  serious  drawback  to  my  en- 
joyment in  wetting  the  line.  Lake  Champlain  received  its 
name  from  a  French  nobleman  who  discovered  it  in  1609,  and 
who  died  at  Quebec  in  1635. 

The  associations  I  am  now  to  speak  of  are  of  a  personal  cha- 
racter ;  and  the  first  of  the  three  names  before  me  is  that  of 
Joseph  Torrey,  the  present  Professor  of  Moral  and  Intellectual 
Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Vermont.  As  a  citizen,  ho  is 
one  of  the  most  amiable  and  beloved  of  men.  As  one  of  the 
faculty  of  the  university,  he  occupies  a  high  rank,  and  is  a  par- 
ticular favorite  with  all  his  students.  A  pleasing  evidence  of 
the  latter  fact  I  noticed  a  few  days  since,  when  it  was  reported 
among  the  students  that  the  Professor  had  returned  from  a  visit 
to  the  Springs  for  his  health.  I  was  in  company  with  some 
half-dozen  of  them  at  the  time,  and  these  are  the  remarks  they 
made.  "  How  is  his  health?"  "  I  hope  he  has  improved!" 
"  Now  shall  I  be  happy — for  ever  since  he  went  away,  the  re- 
citation room  has  been  a  cheerless  place  to  me."  "  Now  shall 
I  be  advised  as  to  ray  essay!"  "  Now  shall  my  poem  be  cor- 
rected!" "  Now  in  my  trouble  shall  I  have  the  sympathy  of 
a  true  friend !"    Much  more  mea.'ing  in  contained  in  these  siui- 


i 

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240 


LAKE  ITTAMPLAIN. 


.  pie  phrases  than  what  meets  the  eye.  Surely,  if  any  man  is 
to  be  envied,  it  is  he  who  has  a  place  in  the  affections  of  all 
who  know  him.  As  a  scholar,  too,  Professor  Torrey  occupies 
an  exalted  station,  as  will  be  proven  to  the  world  in  due  time. 
He  has  never  published  anything  but  an  occasional  article  for 
a  review,  and  the  memoir  of  President  Marsh,  (who  was  lii* 
predecessor  in  the  university,)  as  contained  in  the  admirable 
volume  of  his  Remains,  which  should  occupy  a  conspicuous 
place  in  the  library  of  every  American  scholar  and  Christian. 
The  memoir  is,  indeed,  a  rare  specimen  of  that  kind  of  writing, 
— beautifully  written,  and  pervaded  by  a  spirit  of  refinement 
that  is  delightful.  But  I  was  mostly  interested  in  Mr.  Torrey 
as  a  man  of  taste  in  the  Fine  Arts.  In  everything  but  the 
mere  execution,  he  is  a  genuine  artist,  and  long  may  I  remem- 
ber the  counsels  of  his  experience  and  knowledge.  A  course 
of  Lectures  on  the  Arts  forms  a  portion  of  his  instruction  as 
Professor,  and  I  trust  that  they  will  eventually  be  published 
for  the  benefit  of  our  country.  He  has  also  translated  from 
the  German  of  Schelling,  a  most  admirable  discourse,  entitled 
"  Relation  of  the  Arts  of  Design  to  Nature  ;"  a  copy  of  which 
ought  to  be  in  the  possession  of  every  young  artist.  Mr.  Tor- 
rey has  been  an  extensive  traveller  in  Europe,  and  being  a  lover, 
and  an  acute  observer  of  everything  connected  with  literature 
and  art,  it  is  quite  a  luxury  to  hear  him  expatiate  upon  "  the 
wonders  he  has  seen."  He  also  examines  everything  with  the 
eye  of  a  philosopher,  and  his  conclusions  are  ever  of  practical 
utility.  Not  only  can  he  analyze  in  a  profound  manner  the 
principles  of  metaphysical  learning,  but  with  the  genuine  feel- 
ings of  a  poet,  descant  upon  the  triumphs  of  poetic  genius,  or 
point  out  the  mind-charms  of  a  Claude  or  Titian.  He  is — but 
I  will  not  say  all  that  I  would,  for  fear  that  at  our  next  meeting 
he  would  chide  mo  for  my  boyish  personalities.  Let  me  con- 
clude, then,  reader,  with  the  advice,  that,  if  you  ever  chance  to 
meet  the  Professor  in  your  travels,  you  must  endeavor  to  secure 
an  introduction,  which  I  am  sure  you  cannot  but  ever  remember 
with  unfeigned  pleasure. 
John  Henry  Hopkins,  D.D.,  Bishop  of  Vermont,  is  another 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


241 


of  the  principal  attractions  of  Burlington.  The  history  of  his 
life,  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  and  his  general  deport- 
ment all  speak  of  the  "peace  of  God."  Considering  the  num- 
ber and  diversity  of  his  acquirements,  I  think  him  a  very  re- 
markable man.  He  is  not  ouly,  in  point  of  character,  well 
worthy  'f  his  exalted  stat'  -is  Bishop,  but  as  a  theologian 
learned  and  eloquent  to  .>ii  mon  degree.     His  contribu- 

tions to  the  world  of  lei  '  rare  value,  as  he  has  pub- 

lished volumes  entitled  ty  Vindicated,"  "  The  Pri- 

mitive Church,"  "The  .  umitivc  Creed,"  "The  Church  of 
Rome,"  " British  Reformation,"  and  "Letters  to  the  Clergy." 
His  style  of  writing  is  persuasive,  vigorous,  and  clear,  and  all 
his  conclusions  seem  to  have  been  formed  in  full  view  of  the 
Bible,  which  is  a  virtue  well  worth  noticing  in  these  degenerate 
days.  It  is  because  of  his  honesty  and  soundness,  I  suppose, 
that  some  of  his  own  church  are  disaffected  with  his  straight- 
forward conduct.  Bishop  Hopkins,  as  a  divine,  is  of  the  same 
school  with  the  late  Bishop  White,  and  therefore  among  the 
most  eminently  wise  and  good  of  his  country. 

The  Bishop  of  Vermont  is  also  a  man  of  remarkable  taste 
with  regard  to  Architecture,  Music  and  Painting,  in  which  de- 
partments, as  an  amateur,  he  has  done  himself  great  credit. 
Not  only  did  he  plan  and  superintend  the  building  of  an  edifice 
for  his  recent  school,  but  has  published  an  interesting  book  on 
Architecture,  wherein  he  appears  to  be  as  much  at  home  as  if 
he  were  Christopher  Wren.  Knowing  the  market  to  be  full  of 
sentimental  nonsense  in  the  way  of  songs,  he  composed,  for  the 
benefit  of  his  own  children,  a  few  with  a  moral  tone,  which  he 
also  set  to  music,  and  are  now  published  as  a  worthy  tribute  to 
his  fine  feelings  and  the  correctness  of  his  ear.  But  he  ranks 
still  higher  as  a  man  of  taste  in  the  capacity  of  Painter.  The 
Vermont  drawing-book,  which  he  published,  is  an  evidence  of 
his  ability  as  a  draftsman.  The  family  portraits  which  adorn 
his  walls  prove  him  to  have  an  accurate  eye  for  color,  and  an 
uncommon  knowledge  of  efiect ; — and  his  oil  sketches  of  scenes 
from  nature  give  token  of  an  ardent  devotion  to  nature.  But 
the  best,  in  my  opinion,  of  all  his  artistical  productions,  is  a 
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242 


LAKE  OHAHPLAIN. 


picture  representing  our  "  Saviour  blessing  little  children." 
Its  conception,  grouping  and  execution  are  all  of  very  great 
merit,  and  I  am  persuaded  will  one  day  be  looked  upon  with 
peculiar  interest  by  the  lovers  and  judges  of  art  in  this  coun- 
try. Though  done  in  water  colors,  and  considered  by  the  artist 
as  a  mere  sketch  for  a  larger  picture,  there  .'  i.  e  some  heads  in 
it  that  would  have  called  forth  a  compliment  even  from  the 
lamented  Allston.  Would  that  he  could  be  influenced  to  send 
it,  for  exhibition,  to  ovr  National  Academy !  And  thus  endeth 
my  humble  tribute  of  applause  to  a  gifted  man. 

I  now  come  to  the  Hon.  George  P.  Marsh,  of  whom,  if  I 
were  to  follow  the  bent  of  my  feelings,  I  could  write  a  complete 
volume.  Though  yet  in  the  early  prime  of  life,  he  is  a  sage  in 
learning  and  wisdom.  After  leaving  college  he  settled  in  Bur- 
lington, where  he  has  since  resided,  dividing  his  time  between 
his  legal  profession  and  the  retirement  of  his  study.  With  a 
large  and  liberal  heart,  he  possesses  all  the  endearing  and  in- 
teresting qualities  which  belong  to  the  true  and  accomplished 
gentleman.  Like  all  truly  great  men,  he  is  exceedingly  retir- 
ing and  modest  in  his  deportment,  and  one  of  that  rare  class 
who  seem  never  excited  by  the  voice  of  fame.  About  four 
years  ago,  almost  without  his  knowledge,  he  was  elected  to  a 
seat  in  the  lower  house  of  Congress,  where  he  at  once  began  to 
make  an  impression  as  a  statesman.  Though  few  have  been 
his  public  speeches,  they  are  remarkable  for  sound  political 
logic  and  the  classic  elegance  of  their  language.  As  an  orator, 
he  is  not  showy  and  passionate,  but  plain,  forcible  and  earnest. 

But  it  is  in  the  walks  of  private  life  that  Mr.  Marsh  is  to  be 
mostly  admired.  His  knowledge  of  the  Fine  Arts  is  probably 
more  extensive  than  that  of  any  other  man  in  this  country,  and 
his  ji'itical  taste  is  equal  to  his  knowledge ;  but  that  depart- 
ment peculiarly  his  hobby,  is  engraving.  He  has  a  passion  for 
line  engravings ;  and  it  is  unquestionably  true,  that  his  collec- 
tion is  the  most  valuable  and  extensive  in  the  Union.  He  is 
well  acquainted  with  the  history  of  this  art  from  the  earliest 
period,  and  also  with  its  various  mechanical  ramifications.  Ho 
is  as  familiar  with  the  lives  and  peculiar  styles  of  the  Painters 


LAKE  OHAMPLAIN. 


243 


and  Engravers  of  antiquity,  as  with  his  household  affairs ;  and 
when  he  talks  to  you  on  his  favorite  theme,  it  is  not  to  display 
his  learning,  but*to  make  you  realize  the  exalted  attributes  and 
mission  of  universal  art. 

Ab  an  author,  Mr.  Marsh  has  done  but  little  in  extent,  but 
enough  to  secure  a  seat  beside  such  men  as  Edward  Everett, 
with  whom  he  has  been  compared.  He  has  published  (among 
his  numerous  things  of  the  kind)  a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  The 
Goths  in  New  England,"  which  is  a  fine  specimen  of  chaste 
writing  and  beautiful  thought ;  also  another  on  the  ''  History 
of  the  Mechanic  Arts,"  which  contains  a  great  deal  of  rare 
and  important  information.  He  has  also  written  an  ''  Icelandic 
Grammar,"  which  created  quite  a  sensation  among  the  learned 
of  Europe  a  few  years  ago.  As  to  his  scholarship — it  can  be 
said  of  him  that  he  is  a  master  in  some  twelve  of  the  principal 
modern  and  ancient  languages.  He  has  not  learned  them 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  being  considered  a  literary  prodigy, 
but  to  multiply  his  means  of  acquiring  information,  which  in- 
formation is  intended  to  accomplish  some  substantial  end.  He 
is  not  a  visionary,  but  a  devoted  lover  of  truth,  whether  it  be 
in  History,  Poetry,  or  the  Arts. 


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THE   GREEN  AND  WHITE   MOUNTAINS. 


(•;  !>., 


Thrbe  loud  knocks  upon  my  bed-room  door  awakened  me 
from  a  "a  deep  dream  of  peace."  "The  Eastern  stage  is 
ready/'  said  my  landlord,  as  he  handed  me  a  light.  Where- 
upon, in  less  than  five  minutes  after  the  hour  of  three,  I  was  on 
my  way  to  the  White  Mountains,  inditing  on  the  tablet  of  my 
memory  the  following  disjointed  stage-coach  rhapsody. 

A  fine  coach,  fourteen  passengers,  and  six  superb  horses. 
My  seat  is  on  the  outside,  and  my  eyes  on  the  alert  for  any- 
thing of  peculiar  interest  which  I  may  meet  with  in  my  jour- 
ney. Now  do  the  beautiful  Green  Mountains  meet  my  view. 
The  day  is  breaking,  and  lo !  upon  either  side  of  me,  and  like 
two  leaders  of  an  army,  rise  the  peaks  of  Mansfield  Mountain 
and  the  Camel's  Hump.  Aro  thp  former  the  cloud-spirits 
of  early  morning  are  picturing  i'antastic  poetry  of  the  sky ; 
while  just  above  the  summit  of  "the  other  may  be  seen  the  new 
moon  and  the  morning  st(*r,  waiting  for  the  sun  to  come,  like 
two  sweet  humadftisters  for  the  smiles  and*  kisses  of  a  returning 
father.  And  now,  as  the  sunbeams  glide  along  the  earth,  wc 
are  in  the  solitude  of  the  mountains,  and  the  awakened  mist- 
creatures  are  ascending  fron>  the  cool  and  shady  nooks  in  the 
deep  ravines. 

Young  Dana's  description  of  a  ship  under  full  sail  is  very 
fine,  but  it  does  not  possess  the  living  beauty  of  the  picture  now 
before  me, — those  six  bay  horses,  straining  every  nerve  to  eclipse 
the  morning  breeze.  Hold  your  breath,  for  the  road  is4ard 
and  smooth  as  marble,  and  the  extended  nostrils  of  those  match- 
less steeds  speak  of  a  noble  pride  within.     There,  tht  race  is 


THE  aREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


245 


done,  the  victory  theirs^  and  now,  as  they  trot  steadily  along, 
what  music  in  the  champing  of  th^ir  bits,  and  the  striking  of 
those  iron-bound  hoofs !  Of  all  the  soul-stirring  animals  on 
earth,  none  do  I  love  sd  dearly  as  the  horse,  and  I  sometimes 
am  inclined  to  think  that  they  have  souls.  I  respect  a  noble 
horse  more  than  I  do  some  men.  Horses  are  the  Indian  chiefs 
of  the  brute  creation. 

The  Winooski,  along  whose  banks  runs  the  most  picturesque 
stage  route  in  Vermont,  is  an  uncommonly  interesting  stream, 
rapid,  clear,  and  cold.  It  is  remarkable  for  its  falls  and  narrow 
passes,  ^where  perpendicular  rocks  of  a  hundred  feet  or  more 
frown  upon  its  solitary  pools.  Its  chief  pictorial  attraction  is 
the  cataract  at  Warterbury,  a  deep  and  jagged  chasm  in  the 
granite  mountain,  whose  horrors  are  greatly  increased  by  the 
sight  and  smothered  howl  of  an  avalanche  of  pure  white  foam. 
On  its  banks  and  forty  miles  from  its  outlet  near  Burlington, 
is  situated  Montpelier,  the  capital  of  Vermont.  It  is  a  com- 
pact town,  mostly  built  upon  two  streets,  and  completely  hemmed 
in  by  rich  and  cultivated  mountains.  Its  chief  attraction,  to 
my  mind,  however,  during  my  short  stay,  was  a  pair  of  deep 
black  eyes,  only  half  visible  under  their  drooping  lids. 

During  one  of  my  rambles  near  Montpelier,  I  discovered  an 
isolated  and  abandoned  dwelling,  which  stands  upon  a  little  plot 
of  green,  in  the  lap  of  the  forest  near  the  top  oi  a  mountain.    I 
entered  its  deserted  chambers  and  spent  a  long  time  musing 
upon  its  admonitions.     The  cellar  had  become  the  home  of  liz- 
ards and  toads.     The  spider  and  crickist  were  masters  of  the 
hearth,  where  once  had  been  spun  the  mountain  legend  by  an 
old  man  to  the  only  child  of  his  widowed  son.    They  were,  as  I 
am  told,  the  last  of  a  long  line  which  once  flourished  in  Britain, 
and  with  them  their  name  would  pass  into  forgetfulness.    Only 
the  years  of  a  single  generation  have  elapsed  since  then,  but 
the  dwellers  of  yonder  mountain  are  sleeping  in  the  grave.   And 
is  this  passing  record  of  their  existence  the  only  inheritance 
they  have  left  behind  ?    Most  true ;  but  would  it  have  been 
better  for  them,  or  for  us,  had  they  bequeathed  to  the  world  a 
noted  name  or  immense  possessions  ? 


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246 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


!>?Iv!>''^*ii'J^^'i 


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The  route  between  Montpelier  and  Danville  lies  along  the 
Winooski,  and  is  not  less  beautiful  than  that  down  the  river. 
Its  chief  picture  is  Marsh£(eld  Waterfall.  While  at  Montpelier 
a  pleasure  ride  was  got  up  by  some  of  my  friends,  and  as  they 
were  bound  to  the  East,  and  I  was  honored  with  an  invitation, 
I  sent  on  my  baggage  and  joined  them,  so  that  the  monotony 
of  my  journey  was  considerably  relieved.  We  had  our  fishing- 
rods  with  us,  and  having  stopped  at  the  fall,  we  caught  a  fine 
mess  of  trout,  which  we  had  cooked  for  dinner  at  the  next  tav- 
ern on  our  way, — and  our  dessert  consisted  of  fine  singing  from 
the  ladies,  and  good  stories  from  the  lips  of  Senator  J'helps, 
who  was  of  the  party,  and  is  celebrated  for  his  conversational 
powers. 

At  cock-crowing  this  morning,  I  was  again  in  my  seat  outside 
of  the  stage-coach,  anxiously  waiting  for  the  mists  to  evaporate 
in  the  East.  The  sun  proved  to  be  my  friend,  and  as  soon  as 
he  appeared,  they  vanished  like  a  frightened  troop,  and  he  waa 
soon  marching  up  the  sky  in  the  plenitude  of  his  glory.  And 
then,  for  the  first  time,  did  my  vision  rest  upon  the  White 
Mountains,  as  they  reposed  in  the  distance,  like  a  mighty  herd 
of  camels  in  the  solitude  of  the  desert.  In  the  charming  valley 
of  the  Connecticut  river  we  tarried  a  short  time,  but  long  enough 
for  me  to  hear  the  mower  whet  his  scythe,  the  "  lark  sing  loud 
and  high,"  and  the  pleasant  tinkle  of  a  cow-bell  far  away  in 
the  broad  meadow.  While  there  I  took  a  sketch,  wherein  I  in- 
troduced the  father  of  New  England  rivers,  and  the  bald  peak 
of  Mount  Lafayette,  with  the  storm-inflicted  scar  upon  its  brow. 
A  noble  monument  is  yonder  mountain  to  the  memory  of  u 
noble  man. 

While  breakfasting  at  Littleton,  this  morning,  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  to  leave  my  baggage  and  visit  Franconia.  I  jumped 
into  the  stage,  and  after  a  very  pleasant  ride  of  seventeen  miles, 
found  myself  far  into  the  Notch,  in  the  midst  of  whose  scenery 
I  spent  the  night.  I  reached  here  in  time  to  enjoy  an  early 
dinner  with  "  mine  host ;"  after  which  I  sallied  forth  to  exam- 
ine the  wonders  of  the  place,  but  I  was  so  delighted  with  every- 
thing around  that  I  did  not  take  time  to  make  a  single  skctcli. 


THE  QREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


247 


I  saw  the  Flume,  and  was  astonished.  It  is  a  chasm  in  the 
mountain,  thirty  feet  wide,  about  a  hundred  deep,  and  some 
two  thousand  long,  and  as  regular  in  its  shape  as  if  it  had  been 
cut  by  the  hand  of  man.  Bridging  its  centre  is  a  rock  of  many 
tons  weight,  which  one  would  suppose  could  only  have  been 
hurled  there  from  the  heavens.  Through  its  centre  flows  a 
little  brook,  which  soon  passes  over  a  succession  of  rocky  slides, 
which  arc  almost  as  smooth  and  white  as  marble.  And  to  cap 
the  olinax,  this  Flume  is  the  centre  of  as  perfect  and  shadowy 
a  wilderness  of  scenery  as  could  be  imagined. 

I  have  also  seen  (what  should  be  the  pride  of  the  Merrimack, 
as  it  IS  upon  one  of  its  tributaries,)  the  most  superb  pool  in  this 
whole  country.  The  fall  above  it  is  not  remarkable,  but  the 
forest-covered  rocks  on  either  side,  and  the  pool  itself  are  won- 
derfully fine,  the  waters  cold  as  ice,  and  very  clear.  The  pool 
forms  a  circle  of  about  one  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  and  is 
said  to  be  fifty  feet  in  depth.  Owing  to  the  fall  it  is  the  "head 
quarters"  of  the  trout,  which  are  found  all  along  the  stream  in 
great  abundance.  After  I  had  completed  a  drawing,  I  laid 
aside  my  pencils  and  fixed  my  fishing-rod.  I  threw  the  line 
about  two  hours,  and  caught  forty-five  trout.  Among  them 
was  the  great-grandfather  of  all  trout,  as  I  thought  at  the  time, 
for  he  was  seventeen  inches  long,  and  weighed  two  pounds. 

The  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  is  another  of  the  lions  of  this 
place.  It  is  a  cone-shaped  mountain,  at  the  foot  of  which  is  a 
small  lake,  and  upon  whose  top  arc  some  rocks,  which  have  a 
resemblance  to  the  profile  of  an  old  man.  It  is  really  a  very 
curious  affair.  There  the  old  fellow  stands,  as  he  has  stood 
perhaps  for  centuries,  "  looking  the  whole  world  in  the  face." 
I  wonder  if  the  thunder  never  frightens  him !  and  does  the 
lightning  play  around  his  brow  without  making  him  wink  ? 
His  business  there,  I  suppose,  is  to  protect  the  "ungranted 
lands"  of  New  Hampshire.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that 
the  aborigines  looked  upon  this  huge  image  with  veneration  and 
awe,  believing  it  to  be  endowed  with  Omnipotent  power. 

And  another  cu'  iosity  which  everybody  goes  to  see,  is  called 
the  Basin — an  exquisite  little  spot — fit  for  the  abode  of  a  water- 


i 


i'~i 


m 


t^*} 


248 


THE  QREUN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


b^ 


'     %'<^r 


m 


,^^. 


liilil' 


4i  •-f;i* 


n-''^'  ' 


I 


sprite.    It  is  formed  in  the  solid  rock,  and  though  twenty  feet 
in  depth,  you  can  see  a  sixpence  at  the  bottom. 

The  distance  from  Knight's  tavern  to  the  western  outlet  of 
Franconia  Notch  is  eight  miles.  The  eastern  stage  was  to  pass 
through  in  the  afternoon,  so  that  after  eating  my  breakfast  I 
started  on,  intending  to  enjoy  a  walk  between  the  mountains. 
Now  as  I  sat  upon  a  stone  to  sketch  a  mass  of  foliage,  a  little 
red  squirrel  came  within  five  feet  of  me,  and  commenced  a  ter- 
rible chattering,  as  if  his  lady-love  had  given  him  the  "mitten," 
and  he  was  blowing  out  against  the  whole  female  sex ;  and  now 
an  old  partridge  with  a  score  of  children  came  tripping  along 
the  shadowy  road,  almost  within  my  reach,  and  so  fearless  of 
my  presence,  that  I  would  not  have  harmed  one  of  them  for  a 
crown.  Both  of  them  were  exceedingly  simple  pictures,  and 
yet  they  afforded  me  a  world  of  pleasure.  I  thought  of  the 
favorite  haunts  of  tbese  dear  creatures, — the  hollow  tree, — the 
bed  of  dry  leaves, — the  cool  spring, — the  mossy  yellow  log, — 
the  rocky  ledges  overgrown  with  moss, — the  gurgling  brooklet 
stealing  through  the  trees,  with  its  fairy  water-falls  in  a  green 
shadow  and  its  spots  of  vivid  sunlight, — and  of  a  thousand 
other  kindred  gems  in  the  wonderful  gallery  of  Nature.  And 
now  as  I  walked  onward,  peering  into  the  gloomy  recesses  of 
the  forest  on  either  side,  or  fixed  my  eyes  upon  the  blue  sky 
with  a/ew  white  clouds  floating,  in  their  glory,  maoy  of  my 
favorite  songs  were  remembered,  and  in  a  style  peculiarly  my 
own,  I  poured  them  upon  the  air,  and  tlfey  were  prolonged  by 
the  mountain  echoes.  As  I  looked  through  the  opening  trees, 
i  saw  an  eagle  floating  above  the  sui  imit  of  a  mighty  cliff, — 
now,  with  the  speed  of  a  falling  star,  descending  far  into  the 
leafy  depths,  and  then,  slowly  but  surely  ascending,  until  hidden 
from  view  by  a  passing  cloud.  Fly  on,  proud  bird,  thought  I, 
glorious  symbol  of  my  country's  freedom  !  What  a  splendid 
life  is  thine !  Thou  art  the  "sultan  of  tho  sky,"  and  from  thy 
craggy  home  for  ever  lookest  upon  the  abodes  of  man  with  in- 
difference and  scorn.  The  war-whoop  of  the  savage,  the  roar 
of  artillery  on  the  bloody  battle-field,  and  the  loud  boom  of  the 
ocean  cannon,  have  fallen  upon  thy  ear,  and  thou  hast  lis- 


THE  ORGEX  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


249 


tcned,  utterly  heedless  as  to  whom  belonged  the  victory.  What 
strength  and  power  are  in  thy  pinions !  traversing  in  an  hour 
a  wider  space 

"  Than  yonder  gallant  ship,  with  all  her  sails 
Wooing  the  winds,  can  cross  from  morn  till  eve !" 

When  thy  hunger-shriek  echoes  through  the  wilderness,  with 
terror  does  the  wild  animal  seek  his  den,  for  thy  talons  are  of 
iron  and  thine  eyes  of  fire.  But  what  is  thy  message  to  the 
sun  ?  for  far,  far  into  the  zenith  art  thou  gone. 

My  thoughts  were  upon  the  earth  once  more,  and  my  feet 
upon  a  hill  out  of  the  woods,  whence  might  be  seen  the  broad 
valley  of  the  Amonoosack  melting  into  that  of  the  Connecticut. 
Long  and  intently  did  I  gaze  upon  the  landscape,  with  its  un- 
numbered farm-houses,  reposing  in  the  sunlight,  and  surmounted 
by  pyramids  of  light-blue  smoke  ;  and  also  upon  the  cattle  lit- 
erally grazing  on  a  thousand  hills.  Presently  I  heard  the 
rattling  wheels  of  the  stage-coach, — one  more  look  over  the 
charming  valley, — and  I  was  in  my  seat  beside  the  coachman. 

Away,  away — thoughts  of  the  human  world !  for  I  am  enter- 
ing the  heart  of  the  White  Mountains.  Ah  me  !  how  can  I 
describe  these  glorious  hierarchs  of  New  England !  How 
solemnly  do  they  raise  their  rugged  peaks  to  Heaven  !  ^'v  jy,-, 
in  token  of  their  royalty,  crowned  with  a  diadem  of  cloudt, ; 
and  now  with  every  one  of  their  cliffs  gleaming  in  the  sunlight 
like  the  pictures  of  a  dream  !  For  ages  have  they  held  com- 
munion with  the  mysteries  of  the  midnight  sky.  The  earliest 
beams  of  the  morning  have  bathed  them  in  living  light,  and 
theirs,  too,  have  beon  the  kisses  of  departing  day.  Man  and 
his  empires  have  arisen  and  decayed  ;  but  they  have  remained 
unchanged,  a  perpetual  mockery.  Upon  their  summits  Time 
has  never  claimed  dominion.  There,  as  of  old,  does  the  eagle 
teach  her  brood  to  fly,  and  there  does  the  wild  bear  prowl  after 
his  pre^.  There  do  the  waterfalls  still  leap  and  shout  on  their 
way  to  the  dells  below,  even  as  when  the  tired  Indian  hunter, 
some  hundred  ages  agone,  bent  him  to  quaff  the  liquid  element. 
There,  still,  does  the  rank  grass  rustle  in  the  breeze,  and  the 


■  #.'4'' 


I 


250 


THE  OREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


pine  and  cedar  and  hemlock  take  part  in  the  howling  of  the 
gale.  Upon  man  alone  falls  the  curse  of  time ;  Nature  has 
never  sinned,  therefore  is  her  glory  immortal. 

As  is  well  known,  the  highest  of  these  mountains  was  chris- 
tened after  our  heloved  Washington,  and  with  it,  as  with  him, 
are  associated  the  names  of  Jefferson,  Madison  and  Adams.  Its 
height  is  said  to  be  six  thousand  and  eight  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  but  owing  to  its  situation  in  the  centre  of  a  brotherhood 
of  hills,  it  does  not  appear  to  bo  so  grand  an  object  as  South 
Peak  Mountain  among  the  Catskills.  Its  summit,  like  most  of 
its  companions,  is  destitute  of  vegetation,  and  therefore  more 
desolate  and  monotonous.  It  is  somewhat  of  an  undertaking 
to  ascend  Mount  Washington,  though  the  trip  is  performed  on 
horseback ;  but  if  the  weather  is  clear,  the  traveller  will  be  well 
repaid  for  his  labor.  The  painter  will  be  pleased  with  the  views 
he  may  command  in  ascending  the  route  from  Crawford's,  which 
abounds  in  the  wildest  and  most  diversified  charms  of  mountain 
scenery.  But  the  prospect  from  the  summit  of  Washington 
will  mostly  excite  the  soul  of  the  poet.  Not  so  much  on  ac- 
count of  what  he  will  behold,  but  for  the  breathless  feeling 
which  will  make  him  deem  himself  for  a  moment  superior  to  the 
clogs  of  humanity.  And  there,  more  than  ever,  if  a  Christian, 
will  he  desire  to  be  alone,  so  as  to  breathe  an  appropriate 
prayer. 

I  spent  a  night  upon  this  mountain,  and  my  first  view  of  the 
prospect  was  at  the  break  of  day,  when,  as  Milton  says, 


-morn  her  rosy  steps  in  the  eastern  clime 


ami, 


Advancing,  sow'd  the  earth  with  orient  pearls," 

"  Waked  by  the  circling  hours  with  rosy  hand 
Unbarred  the  gates  of  light," 


or  when,  in  the  language  of  Shakspeare, 

"  The  gray-eyed  morn  smiled  on  the  frowning  night, 
Checkering  the  eastern  clouds  with  streaks  of  light," 

Wonderfully  vast  and  strangely  indistinct  and  dreamy  was 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


251 


the  scene  spread  out  on  every  side.  To  the  west  lay  the  superb 
Connecticut,  with  its  fertile  valley  reposing  in  the  gloom  of 
night,  while  to  the  east,  the  ocean-bounded  prospect,  just  burst- 
ing into  the  life  of  light,  was  faintly  relieved  by  Winnipiseogee 
and  Sebago  lakes,  and  like  rockets  along  the  earth,  wandered 
away  the  Merrimack,  the  Saco  and  the  Androscoggin,  to  their 
ocean  home, — the  whole  forming  an  epic  landscape,  such  as  we 
seldom  behold  excepting  in  our  sleep.  With  what  exquisite  de- 
light did  I  gaze  upon  the  scene,  as  in  the  eyes  of  truth  and 
fancy  it  expanded  before  my  mind.  Far  away,  in  one  of  a 
hundred  villages,  a  young  wife,  with  her  first-born  child  at  her 
side,  was  in  the  midst  of  her  morning  dream  ;  and  there,  the 
pilgrim  of  four-score  years  was  lying  on  his  couch  in  a  fitful 
slumber,  as  the  pains  of  age  creeped  through  his  frame.  There, 
on  the  Atlantic  shore,  the  fisherman  in  the  sheltering  bay, 
hoisted  anchor  and  spread  his  sail  for  the  sea ; — and  there  thq 
life-star  of  the  lighthouse  was  extinguished,  again  at  its  stated 
time  to  appear  with  increased  brilliancy.  In  reality,  there  was 
an  ocean  of  mountains  all  around  me ;  but  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  hour,  and  as  I  looked  down  upon  them,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  plain,  boundless  as  the  world ; 
and  though  I  could  not  see  them,  I  felt  that  I  was  in  a  region 
of  spirits,  and  that  the  summit  of  the  mount  was  holy  ground. 
But  the  morning  was  advancing,  the  rising  mists  obscured  my 
vision,  and,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  have  that  day-break  picture 
dissipated  from  my  mind,  I  mounted  my  faithful  horse,  and  de- 
scended the  mountain. 

The  ride  from  the  Notch  House,  kept  by  the  celebrated 
hunter,  Ethan  Allen  Crawford,  through  the  Notch  Valley,  some 
twelve  miles  long,  is  magnificent.  First  is  the  Gap  itself,  only 
some  twenty  feet  in  width,  and  overhung  with  lofty  and  jagged 
rocks ;  and  then  the  tiny  spring,  alive  with  trout,  which  gives 
birth  to  the  untamed  Saco.  A  few  more  downward  steps,  and 
you  are  in  full  view  of  a  bluff,  whose  storm-scathed  brow  seems 
to  prop  the  very  heavens, — its  gray  shadows  strongly  contrast- 
ing with  the  deep  blue  sky.  A  little  further  on,  and  you  find 
yourself  in  an  amphitheatre  of  mountains,  whose  summits  and 


'K  m 


'^u 


252 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


.'■I..^^f^- 


m&'^' 


i 

m 


'^n 


sides  are  barren  and  desolate,  where  the  storms  of  a  thousand 
years  have  exhausted  their  fnrj.  And  then  yon  cross  the  little 
brook,  where  a  poor  girl,  named  Nancy,  once  perished  in  the 
snow,  while  attempting  to  follow  her  faithless  swain.  Down- 
ward still  and  further  on,  and  you  come  to  the  memorable 
Wiley  cottage,  whose  inhabitants  perished  in  the  avalanche  or 
slide  of  18226.  The  storm  had  been  unceasing  for  some  days 
upon  the  surrounding  country,  and  the  dwellers  of  the  cottage 
were  startled  at  midnight  by  the  falling  earth.  They  fled — 
and  were  buried  in  an  instant,  and  up  to  the  present  time,  only 
one  of  the  seven  bodies  has  ever  been  found.     As  it  then  stood, 

the    dwelling    still    stands a  monument   of   mysterious 

escape.  The  Saco  river,  which  runs  through  the  valley,  was 
lifted  from  its  original  bed,  and  forced  into  a  new  channel.  The 
whole  place,  which  but  a  short  time  before  was  a  "  beautiful 
and  verdant  opening  amid  the  surrounding  rudeness  and  deep 
shadow,  is  now  like  a  stretch  of  desolate  sea-shore  after  a  tem- 
pest,— full  of  wrecks,  buried  in  sand  and  rocks,  crushed  and 
ground  to  atoms." 

And  now  for  a  few  words  about  the  hunter  Crawford,  or 
"  Ethan  of  the  Hills,"  as  he  is  often  called.  He  was  born  in 
Vermont  in  1792,  in  a  log  cabin,  and  of  poor  but  respectable 
parents.  He  obtained  the  rudiments  of  an  English  education 
by  attending  a  district  school  in  winter,  for  which  privilege 
he  toiled  both  early  and  late  at  some  mechanical  employment. 
He  spent  his  boyhood  among  the  White  Hills,  and  by  every 
kind  of  hardship  and  exposure  fortified  his  constitution.  In 
1811  he  enlisted  as  a  soldier,  under  Captain  Stark,  and  went 
to  Plattsburgh,  which  patriotic  demonstration  only  ended  in  his 
getting  the  spotted  fever.  In  1814  he  was  one  of  three  men 
who  cut  a  road  through  a  continuous  forest  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  which  was  sixteen  feet  wide  and  eight  miles  long.  His 
bodily  strength  at  that  time  wa«  so  great,  that  he  could  carry  the 
weight  upon  his  back  of  five  hundred  pounds.  While  yet  a  very 
young  man,  the  entire  care  of  his  father  and  family  devolved 
upon  him,  and  in  spite  of  many  calamities  by  fire  and  flood,  he 
proved  himself  a  dutiful,  faithful  and   heroic  son.     He  was 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


268 


the  first  man  who  attempted  to  live  in  the  heart  of  the  White 
Hills  by  the  arts  of  husbandry,  but  upon  his  character  of  yeo- 
man he  engrafted  a  thorough  knowledge  of  wood  craft,  until 
the  wild  life  of  the  huntsman  became  his  second  nature.    The 
mountains  were  his  home,  and  with  their  grand  scenery  and 
wild  animals,  he  was  perfectly  acquainted,  and  when  the  lovers 
of  nature  from  far  o£f  towns  began  to  visit  the  region,  Ethan  of 
the  Hills  was  necessarily  their  guide.    As  travel  increased,  he 
converted  his  private  log  cabin  into  a  rude  but  comfortable 
house  of  entertainment,  until  it  was  as  much  a  matter  of  course 
to  see  and  know  the  man  of  the  mountains*  as  the  mountains 
themselves.     When  not  employed  as  a  guide,  or  kept  at  home 
by  his  duties  as  landlord,  he  followed  the  business  of  teamster 
on  the  road  leading  from  the  Notch  to  Portland,  but  his  favorite 
pursuits  were  trapping  and  hunting, — for  in  those  days  the  deer 
and  the  moose,  the  bear,  the  wolf,  the  black  cat,  the  fisher  and 
the  sable,  were  quite  abundant  among  the  Hills.     That  the  life 
of  such  a  man,  exposed  to  frequent  storms,  and  to  hardships 
without  number,  was  full  of  romantic  incident,  cannot  be  ques- 
tioned, and  a  record  of  his  exploits  would  read  like  a  book  of 
wonders.     He  it  was,  moreover,  who  opened  the  first  road  to 
the  top  of  Mount  Washington,  and  the  first  stone  cabin,  and 
the  first  marquee,  raised  upon  its  summit,  were  the  fruits  of  his 
enterprise.     Among  the  many  men  whom  it  was  ♦his  privilege 
to  pilot  to  the  top  of  Mount  Washington,  were  James  Kent  and 
Daniel  Webster,  and  the  most  elevated  speech  which  the  latter 
gentleman  ever  delivered,  was  uttered  upon  the  summit  of 
Mount  Washington,  and  was  reported  by  "Ethan  of  the  Hills" 
as  follows :  • 

"Mount  Washington,  I  have  come  a  long  distance,  have 
toiled  hard  to  arrive  at  your  summit,  and  now  you  seem  to  give 
me  a  cold  reception,  for  which  I  am  extremely  sorry,  as  I  shall 
not  have  time  enough  to  view  this  grand  prospect  which  now 
lies  before  me,  and  nothing  prevents  but  the  uncomfortable 
atmosphere  in  which  you  reside." 

But  tired  of  the  perpetual  gloom  among  these  grand  old  hills, 
I  must  retrace  my  course  to  a  less  dreary  country.    My  last 


^'-x,  <r4'     *" 


^'<^:  [^Mm 


i&nZ 


254 


THE  GREEN  AND  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


view  of  Mount  Washington  and  its  lordly  companions  was  the 
most  beautiful.  The  sun  was  near  his  setting,  and  the  whole 
sky  was  covered  with  a  glow  of  richest  yellow  and  crimson, 
while  there  floated  two  immense  copper-colored  clouds,  just 
touching  the  outline  of  the  mountains  ;  and  through  the  hazy 
atmosphere,  the  mountains  themselves  looked  cloud-like,  but 
with  more  of  the  bright  blue  of  heaven  upon  them.  In  the 
extensive  middle  distance  faded  away  wood-crowned  hills ;  and 
in  the  foreground  reposed  an  exquisite  little  farm,  with  the  hus- 
bandman's happy  abode,  almost  hidden  by  groups  of  elms ;  and 
the  simple  figures,  bnly  a  few  paces  oif,  of  a  little  girl  sitting  on 
a  stone,  with  a  bunch  of  summer  flowers  in  her  hand,  and  a 
basket  of  berries  and  a  dog  at  her  side.  One  more  yearning 
gaze  upon  the  dear  old  mountains,  and  I  resumed  my  pilgrim- 
age towards  the  north.       ^.v  ji-»*.»is'i'  '^ 


NOTE. 
The  foregoing,  like  the  rest  of  this  portion  of  my  work,  was  written  in  1847' 
A  recent  visit  to  this  attractive  region  enables  me  to  record  a  few  additional 
particulars.  By  far  the  most  imposing  view  of  the  White  Mountains  is  to  bu 
obtained  from  the  valley  of  the  Peabody  River,  and  what  is  more,  from  the 
piazza  of  one  of  the  largest  and  most  truly  comfortable  and  cheerful  public 
houses  in  the  whole  country — the  Glen  House.  Indeed,  the  attractions  of 
this  Hotel  are  remarkable.  A  railroad  passes  within  seven  miles  of  it,  and  it 
may  be  reached  in  one  day  from  Boston ;  the  stage  roads  all  around  it,  as 
well  as  the  sta^s,  are  of  the  best  quality ; — a  drive  or  walk,  therefrom,  of 
thirty  minutes,  will  take  you  to  a  score  or  two  of  very  beautiful  water-falls . 
the  distance  from  this  house  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Washington,  is  shorter 
than  from  any  other  house,  and  very  much  more  interesting, — being  only 
seven  miles,  one  half  of  which  can  be  perfcrrmed  in  a  wagon.  The  best  of 
trout  fishing  may  bo  found  in  every  direction  in  its  vicinity ;  and  it  is  the  only 
place  where  tourists  can  beTurnished  with  experienced  guides  to  Tuckerman's 
Ravine,  where  the  clift's  are  more  imposing  than  elsewhere  among  these 
mountains,  and  where,  in  the  hottest  months,  the  explorer  may  ei^oy  his 
lunch  or  cigar  under  an  arch  of  the  purest  auow. 


.  \ ' 


$m^, 


;, i'.i    : 


MONTREAL. 


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u 


i:-rt 


With  some  things  in  Montreal  I  have  been  pleased,  but  with 
others  a  good  deal  dissatisfied.  The  appearance  which  it  pre- 
sents from  every  point  of  view  is  imposing.  Its  numerous 
church  towers  and  extensive  blocks  of  stores,  its  extensive  ship- 
ping and  noble  stone  wharves,  combine  to  give  one  an  idea  of 
great  wealth  and  liberality.  On  first  riding  to  my  hotel  I  Avas 
struck  with  the  cleanliness  of  its  streets,  and,  on  being  shown 
to  my  room,  I  was  convinced  that  the  hotel  itself  was  of  the 
first  water.  The  city  abounds  in  public  buildings,  which  are 
usually  built  of  limestone,  and  it  extends  along  the  river  St. 
Lawrence  about  three  miles.  The  streets,  in  the  older  parts 
of  the  town,  are  as  picturesque  and  narrow  as  those  of  the  more 
ancient  cities  of  the  old  World,  but  in  the  modern  portions  they 
are  quite  regular  and  comfortable.  The  principal  street  is 
Notre  Dame,  which  always  presents,  on  a  pleasant  day,  a  gay, 
and  elegant  appearance. 

Generally  speaking,  its  churches  are  below  mediocrity,  but 
it  has  one  architectural  lion  worth  mentioning — the  Roman 
'  Catholic  cathedral.  It  faces  a  square  called  Place  d'Armes, 
and  presents  an  imposing  appearance.  It  is  built  of  stone,  and 
said  to  be  after  the  Norman-Gothic  order  of  architecture  ;  but 
I  should  think  it  a  mixture  of  a  dozen  dis-ordera.  Its  extreme 
length  is  225  fee^,  breadth  135,  and  its  height  72  feet.  It  also 
has  two  towers,  which  measure  220  feet  to  their  summit.  The 
windows  in  these  towers  are  closed  with  coarse  boards,  and  yet 
it  cost  $400,000.  The  ground  floor  is  covered  with  pews 
capable  of  seating  8000  people,  while  the  aisles  and  galleries 


Ir 


■   'km 


lil 


'it 


iVi. 


256 


MONTREAL. 


might  hold  2000  more.  The  galleries  are  supported  by  wooden 
pillars,  which  remind  me  of  a  New  York  barber's  sign.  The 
interior  has  a  naked  and  doleful  appearance ;  the  large  window 
above  the  altar  is  wretchedly  painted  ;  the  altar  itself  is  loaded 
with  gew-gaws ;  and  of  the  many  paintings  which  meet  you  in 
every  direction  there  is  not  one  for  which  I  would  pay  ten  dol- 
lars. The  organ  resembles  a  bird  house,  and  the  music  perpe- 
trated there  every  day  in  the  year,  would  jar  upon  the  ear  of 
even  an  American  Indian.  And  when  it  is  remembered  that 
this  Church  was  built  by  one  of  the  wealthiest  corporations  on 
the  Continent,  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  entertain  a  feeling  of 
charity  towards  the  founders  thereof. 

The«population  of  Montreal  is  now  estimated  at  forty  thou- 
sand, one-half  of  whom  are  Roman  Catholics,  one  fourth  Pro- 
testants, and  the  remainder  nothing  in  particular.  By  this 
statement  it  will  be  readily  seen  that  the  establishments  of  the 
Catholics  must  be  the  most  abundant.  Nunneries  are  conse- 
quently quite  numerous,  some  of  them  well  endowed,  and,  to 
thoso  who  have  a  passion  for  such  affairs,  must  be  exceedingly 
interesting. 

But  I  wish  to  mention  one  or  two  additional  specimens  of 
architecture.  The  market  of  Montreal  is  built  of  stone,  located 
near  the  river,  and  remarkably  spacious  and  convenient  in  nil 
its  arrangements.  It  eclipses  anything  of  the  kind  that  we 
can  boast  of  in  the  States.  The  only  monument  of  any  note  in 
the  city  is  a  Doric  column,  surmounted  with  a  statue,  and 
erected  in  honor  of  Lord  Nelson.  The  entire  column  is  seventy 
feet  high,  and  gives  an  air  of  elegance  to  that  portion  of  Notre 
Dame  where  it  stands.  On  the  four  sides  of  the  pedestals  are 
pictorial  representations,  in  alto  relievo,  of  Nelson  in  some  of 
his  memorable  battles.  It  was  erected  by  the  British  inhabi- 
tants of  Montreal  at  a  cost  of  six  thousand  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities  of  this  city  is  the  fact 
that  everybody  has  to  live,  walk  and  sleep  at  the  point  of  a 
bayonet.  Military  quarters  are  stationed  in  various  portions 
of  the  city,  and  soldiers  meet  you  at  every  corner,  marching  to 
und  fro,  invariably  puffed  'up  with  ignorance  and  vanity.    The 


'ii'^|li,,.v;r,|*!^ 


MONTREAL. 


267 


last  woman,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  who  has  become  an  outcast  from 
society,  attributes  her  misfortune  to  a  soldier  ;  the  officers,  how- 
ever, who  rule  these  military  slaves,  are,  generally,  well  educa- 
ted and  agreeable  gentlemen.  But  these  are  not  without  their 
faults,  aftd,  if  I  might  be  allowed  the  expression,  I  would  add, 
that  they  appear  supremely  ridiculous  whenever  they  march 
into  a  church,  on  the  Sabbath,  with  their  swords  dangling  be- 
tween their  legs,  and  looking  down  upon  the  praying  congre- 
gation in  all  the  "  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war." 

The  people  whom  you  meet  in  the  streets  of  Montreal  seem 
to  come  from  almost  every  nation  in  the  world.  Now  it  may 
be  the  immensely  pompous  Englishman,  who  represents  some 
wilderness  district  in  Parliament ;  and  now  it  may  be  the  cun- 
ning Scotchman,  or  a  half-famished  Irishman.  Sometimes  it  is 
the  speculating  American,  or  the  humble  and  industrious  Jew ; 
the  gay  and  polite  Habitan,  or  a  group  of  wandering  Indians 
from  the  far  north.  The  better  class  of  Montreal  people  (so 
called  by  a  fashionable  world,)  are  the  British  settlers,  or  rather 
the  English  population.  Generally  speaking,  they  are  highly 
intelligent,  and  somewhat  arbitrary  in  expressing  their  opinions ; 
but  they  entertain  hospitable  feelings  towards  strangers.  They 
boast  of  their  mother  country,  as  if  her  glory  and  poAver  were 
omnipotent ;  and  an  occasional  individual  may  bo  found  who  will 
not  scruple  to  insult  an  American  if  he  happens  to  defend  hia 
own.  In  religion  they  are  generally  Episcopalians ;  they  hate 
the  Habitan,  look  with  contempt  upon  tho  poor  Irish,  and  ad- 
dress their  brethren  of  Scotland  with  a  patronizing  air.  They 
drink  immense  quantities  of  wine,  and  those  who  happen  to  be 
the  illiterate  members  of  tho  Provincial  Parliament,  think  them- 
selves the  greatest  people  on  earth. 

The  island  upon  wliich  Montreal  is  located,  is  seventy  miles 
in  circumference,  and  was  once  (if  not  now,)  the  property  of  an 
order  of  Catholic  priesthood.  In  the  rear  of  the  city  rises  a 
noble  hill,  called  Mount  Royal,  from  which  it  derives  its  name. 
Its  ancient  Indian  name  was  Hochelaga,  which  it  parted  with 
at  the  time  of  its  discovery  in  1536.  The  hill  itself  is  thickly 
wooded ;  but  tho  surrounding  country  is  exceedingly  fortilo,  and 
17 


Wr  ■  " 


■ifttil' 


258 


MONTRBAL. 


( \'. 


studded  with  elegant  country-seats,  and  the  rural  abodes  of  the 
peasantry.  A  ride  around  the  Mount,  on  a  pleasant  day,  is 
one  of  the  most  delightful  imaginable,  commanding  a  view  of 
Montreal  and  the  St.  Lawrence  Valley. 

To  appreciate  the  unique  features  of  Montreal,  it^s  neces- 
sary to  say  that  you  should  be  there  on  the  Sabbath,  the  gala- 
day  of  the  Catholics.  Then  it  is  that  the  peasantry  flock  into 
the  city  from  all  directions,  and,  when  they  are  pouring  into 
the  huge  cathedral  by  thousands,  dressed  in  a  thousand  fantas- 
tic fa&hions,  cracking  their  jokes,  and  laughing  as  they  move 
along,  the  entire  scene  is  apt  to  fill  one  with  peculiar  feelings. 
It  was  beautiful  to  look  at ;  but  the  thought  struck  me  that  I 
should  hate  to  live  in  the  shadow  of  that  cathedral  forever. 
But  if  you  chance  to  take  a  walk  in  the  suburbs,  on  a  Sabbath 
afternoon,  you  will  notice  much  that  cannot  but  afford  you  real 
satisfaction.  You  will  find  almost  every  cottage  a  fit  subject  for 
a  picture ;  and  the  flocks  of  neatly  dressed,  happy  and  polite 
children  playing  along  the  roads,  together  with  frequent  groups 
of  sober  men,  sitting  on  a  porch,  and  the  occasional  image  of  a 
beautiful  girl,  or  contented  mother  leaning  out  of  a  window, — 
all  these  things,  I  say,  constitute  a  charm  which  is  not  met  with 
everywhere.  But  enough ;  Montreal  is  a  fine  city,  and  I  trust 
that  it  will  yet  be  my  fortune  to  visit  it  again  and  see  more  of  its 
polished  society. 


.  I 


'\i\ 


t*i^:i 


QUEBEC. 


1 

m 

I  CAME  from  Montreal  to  this  city  in  the  day  time,  and,  con- 
sequently, had  an  opportunity  of  examining  this  portion  of  the 
St.  Lawrence.  The  river  opposite  Montreal  runs  at  the  rate  of 
six  miles  an  hour,  and  is  two  miles  wide ;  it  preserves  this 
breadth  for  ahout  sixty  miles,  and  then  expands  into  the  beau- 
tiful and  emerald-looking  lake  of  St.  Peter,  after  which  it  varies 
from  one  to  five  in  width  until  it  reaches  Quebec,  which  is  dis- 
tant from  Montreal  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles.  Above  St. 
Peter  the  shores  vary  from  five  to  fifteen  feet  in  height,  but  be- 
low the  lake  they  gradually  become  more  elevated  until  they 
measure  some  three  hundred  feet  in  the  vicinity  of  Quebec. 
The  country  between  the  two  Canadian  cities  is  well  cultivated 
and  on  either  side  may  be  seen  a  continued  succession  of  rural 
cottages. 

Our  steamer  approached  Quebec  at  the  sunset  hour,  and  I 
must  say  that  I  have  never  witnessed  a  more  superb  prospect 
tlian  was  presented  by  the  lofty  citadel  city,  the  contracted  St. 
Lawrence,  the  opposite  headland  called  Point  Levi,  and  the  far 
distant  land  which  I  knew  to  be  Cape  Tourment.  A  stiff 
breeze  was  blowing  at  the  time,  and  some  twenty  ships  were 
sailing  to  and  fro,  while  we  had  to  make  our  way  into  port  by 
winding  between  and  around  some  three  hundred  ships  which 
were  at  anchor. 

I  have  seen  much  in  this  goodly  city  which  has  made  a  deep 
impression  on  my  mind.  The  promontory  called  Capo  Dia- 
mond upon  which  it  stands,  is  formed  by  the  junction  of  the 
St.  Charles  and  St.  Lawrence  rivers,  and  rises  to  the  height  of 


%''M: 


260 


QUEBEC. 


Ff'^'' 


M 


m 


B^::'. 


three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  water.  The  city  is  built 
from  the  water's  edge  along  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  from 
thence,  in  a  circuitous  manner,  ascends  to  the  very  border  of 
the  citadel  and  ramparts.  There  is  but  one  street  leading 
from  the  lower  to  the  upper  town,  and  that  is  narrow  and  very 
steep,  and  the  gateway  is  defended  by  a  number  of  large  can- 
non. The  city  is  remarkably  irregular,  and,  as  many  of  the 
buildings  are  quite  ancient,  its  appearance  is  picturesque  and 
romantic.  The  fortifications  cover  an  area  of  forty  acres,  and 
beneath  them  are  many  spacious  and  gloomy  vaults  for  the  re- 
ception of  ammunition  and  stores  during  a  time  of  war.  Re- 
ceding into  the  interior,  from  the  very  brow  of  the  fortress, 
are  the  Pla.ins  of  Abraham,  which  are  covered  with  a  rich 
green  sod,  and  planted  with  unnumbered  cannon.  Their  his- 
torical associations  are  numerous,  and,  as  they  would  fill  a 
chapter  in  themselves,  I  will  refrain  from  dwelling  upon  them, 
at  this  time.  Let  it  sufiice  to  remember,  that  Jacques  Cartier 
discovered  this  famous  city  on  the  7th  of  September,  1535; 
that  its  site  was  once  occupied  by  an  Indian  village,  called 
Stadacona ;  that  it  was  laid  out  by  Samuel  Champlain  on  the 
3d  of  July,  1608 ;  and  that  the  meaning  of  its  present  name  is 
supposed  to  be  "  the  town  at  the  narroto  strait."  Once  the 
seat  of  a  French  empire  in  the  West,  it  is  now  a  favorite  for- 
tress of  England,  second  in  point  of  strength  only  to  Gibraltar, 
and  like  its  Spanish  rival,  has  been  lost  and  won  by  the  blood 
of  gallant  armies  and  of  illustrious  commanders. 

The  religious  establishments  of  Quebec  are  quite  numerous, 
and  belong  mostly  to  the  Roman  Catholics :  like  those  of  Mon- 
treal, they  are  quite  ancient  and  well-endowed ;  but  they  did 
not  interest  me,  and  I  am  sure  my  description  of  them  would 
not  interest  my  reader.  As  a  matter  of  course,  I  visited  the 
French  Cathedral.  It  seems  to  be  as  old  as  the  hills,  and  yet 
all  the  windows  of  the  principal  tower  are  roughly  boarded  up. 
On  entering  the  edifice,  which  is  crowded  with  gilded  orna- 
ments, I  could  not  fix  my  eye  upon  a  single  object  which  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  richness.  The  sculpture,  the  paintings,  and 
oven  the  gilding,  are  all  without  merit ;  and  what  greatly  added 


QUEBEC. 


261 


to  my  disgust  was,  that  I  could  not  obtain  a  civil  answer  from 
a  single  one  of  the  many  boorish  men  and  boys  who  were  fuss- 
ing about  the  church. 

In  the  front  of  an  extensive  promenade,  just  below  the  cita- 
del, stands  the  monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  Montcalm 
and  Wolfe.  The  gentleman  who  contributed  the  largest  sum 
for  its  erection  was  Lord  Dalhousie.  It  is  a  handsome  obe- 
lisk, and  was  designed  by  a  military  gentleman  named  Young. 
The  principal  inscription  on  the  column  is  characteristic  of. 
the  English  nation,  and  is  what  a  shrewd  Yankev  would  call 
"  a  puflF  of  Dalhousie" — even  though  it  be  chiselled  in  Latin. 
The  annoying  effect  of  this  inscription,  however,  is  counter- 
acted by  another,  which  is  also  in  Latin,  and  very  beautitful. 
It  was  composed  by  J.  C.  Fisher,  Esq.,  founder  of  the  Quebec 
Gazette,  and  is  as  follows : 

"  Military  virtue  gave  them  a  common  death, 
History  a  common  fame, 
Posterity  a  common  monument." 

The  Golden  Dog  is  another  curiosity  which  will  attract  the 
attention  of  the  visitor  to  Quebec.  It  is  the  figure  of  a  dog, 
rudely  sculptured  in  relievo,  and  richly  gilded,  which  stands 
above  the  entrance  of  an  ancient  house,  which  was  built  by  M. 
Phillibert,  a  merchant  of  this  city,  in  the  time  of  M.  Bigot, 
the  last  intendant  under  the  French  government.  Connected 
with  it  is  the  following  curious  story,  which  I  copy  from  an  old 
record : — 

"  M.  Phillibert  and  the  intendant  were  on  bad  terms,  but, 
under  the  system  then  existing,  the  merchant  knew  that  it  was 
in  vain  for  him  to  seek  redress  in  the  colony,  and  determining 
at  some  future  period  to  prefer  his  complaint  in  France,  ho 
contented  himself  with  placing  the  figure  of  a  sleeping  dog,  in 
front  of  his  house,  with  the  following  lines  beneath  it,  in  allu- 
sion to  his  situation  with  his  powerful  enemy : 

"  Je  suis  un  chion  qui  ronge  I'os,   '         '  '  ' 

En  le  rongeaiit  je  pronds  mon  repos —  ^ , ' 

Un  terme  viondra  qui  n'est  pas  venu 
Que  je  mordrai  qui  m'aura  mordu." 


^ 


m 


'W 


.l"7f! 


^i4 


w    ■ 

U<  ■ 


'I  -J' 

m 


m^i 


m 


262 


QUEBEC. 


■u 


"  This  allegorical  language  was  however,  too  plain  for  Mons. 
Bigot  to  misunderstand  it.  A  man  so  powerful,  easily  found 
an  instrument  to  avenge  the  insult,  and  M.  Phillibert  received, 
as  the  reward  of  his  verse,  the  sword  of  an  officer  of  the  garri- 
son through  his  back,  when  descending  the  Lower  Town  Hill. 
The  murderer  was  permitted  to  leave  the  colony  unmolested, 
and  was  transferred  to  a  regiment  stationed  in  the  East  Indies. 
Thither  he  was  pursued  by  a  brother  of  the  deceased,  who  had 
first  sought  him  in  Canada,  when  he  arrived  here  to  settle  his 
brother's  affairs.  The  parties,  it  is  related,  met  in  the  public 
street  of  Pondicherry,  drew  their  swords,  and,  after  a  severe 
conflict,  the  assassin  met  a  more  honorable  fate  than  his  crime 
deserved,  and  died  by  the  hand  of  his  antagonist." 

I  know  not  that  there  are  any  other  curiosities  in  Quebec 
really  worth  mentioning,  and  I  willingly  turn  to  its  natural  at- 
tractions. The  fortress  itself  is  undoubtedly  one  of,  if  not  the 
most  formidable  on  the  continent ;  but  I  fell  in  love  with  it  on 
account  of  its  observatory/  features.  To  ramble  over  its  com- 
manding ramparts,  without  knowing,  or  caring  to  know  a  soli- 
tary individual,  has  been  to  me  an  agreeable  and  unique  source 
of  entertainment.  At  one  time  I  leaned  upon  the  balustrade, 
and  looked  down  upon  the  Lower  Town.  It  was  near  the  hour 
of  noon.  Horses  and  carriages,  men,  women,  and  children, 
were  hurrying  through  the  narrow  streets,  and  ships  were  in 
the  docks  discharging  their  cargoes.  I  looked  dovvn  upon  all 
these  things  at  a  single  glance,  and  ycl  the  only  noise  I  heard 
was  a  hum  of  business.  Even  the  loud  clear  shout  of  the 
sailor,  as  he  tugged  away  at  the  mast-head  of  his  ship,  could 
hardly  be  heard  stealing  upward  on  the  air.  Doves  were  fly- 
ing about,  high  above  the  roofs :  but  they  were  so  far  below 
my  point  of  vision,  that  I  could  not  hear  the  beating  of  their 
wings. 

But  the  finest  prospect  that  I  have  enjoyed  in  this  city  was 
from  the  summit  of  the  Signal  House,  which  looms  above  the 
citadel.  I  visited  this  spot  just  as  the  sun  was  setting,  and 
everything  was  enveloped  in  a  golden  atmosphere.  Beneath 
me  lay  the  city,  gradually  lulling  itself  to  repose ;  on  the  west. 


QUEBEC. 


263 


far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  faded  away  the  vallej'  of  the  upper 
St.  Lawrence;  towards  the  north,  winding  its  way  between 
high  and  well-cultivated  hills,  was  the  river  St.  Charles ;  to- 
wards the  astward,  rolling  onwards,  in  its  sublimity  like  an 
ocean,  across  the  continent,  was  the  flood  of  the  lower  St.  Law- 
rence, whitened  by  more  than  'v  hundred  sails ;  and  towards 
the  south  reposed  a  picturesque  co'intry  of  hills  and  dales,  be- 
yond which  I  could  just  discern  some  of  the  mountain  peaks  of 
my  own  dear  "  Father  Land."  Strange  and  beautiful  beyond 
compare  was  the  entire  panorama,  and  how  was  its  influence 
tipon  me  deepened,  as  a  strain  of  martial  music  broke  upon  the 
silent  air,  and  then  melted  into  my  very  heart !  I  knew  not 
whence  it  came,  or  who  were  the  musicians,  but  I  "  blessed 
them  unaware,"  and  as  my  vision  again  wandered  over  the  far- 
off  hills,  I  was  quite  happy. 

The  population  of  Quebec  is  estimated  at  thirty  thousand, 
and  the  variety  is  as  great  as  in  Montreal.  A  large  propor- 
tion of  the  people  whom  you  see  parading  the  streets  are 
soldiers,  and  chief  among  them  I  would  mention  the  Scotch 
Highlanders,  who  arc  a  noble  set  of  men,  and  dress  in  hand- 
some style. 

Quebec,  upon  the  whole,  is  a  remarkable  place,  and  well 
worth  visiting.  The  environs  of  the  city  are  also  interesting, 
and  a  ride  to  the  Fall  of  Montmorency,  seven  miles  down  the 
river,  and  back  again  by  an  interior  road,  will  abundantly  re- 
pay the  tourist  for  all  the  trouble  and  expense  to  which  he  may 
bo  subjected.  The  Montmorency,  so  called  after  a  French 
admiral  of  that  name,  is  an  inconsiderable  stream,  but  having 
made  one  leap  of  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  is  quite  deserv- 
ing of  its  reputation.  The  Falls  of  the  Chaudifere,  or  Kettle 
Falls,  which  are  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
seven  or  eight  miles  above  Quebec,  ought  also  to  be  visited  by 
all  lovers  of  the  picturesque.  In  the  deep  seclusion  of  a  thick 
wood,  and  at  a  point  seven  hundred  feet  wide,  the  Chaudi^re 
precipitates  itself  a  hundred  feet  into  a  rocky  and  chaotic 
basin,  where,  during  the  spring  freshets,  the  roaring  of  the 
waters  and  the  fantastic  clifis  and  ledges  on  either  side,  com- 


A-t-H 


f"l 

pij^ 

1        ;i     ' 

kI 

jMi||^;R 

m 

^J* 

'^ 

wjr' 

Ha£  \^ 

!'T 

vOKuihA  1 

ll. 

IGf 

-ft' 

K 

264 


QUEBEC. 


m  'I 


|!r|: 


p-^". 


bine  to  make*  s.  very  deep  impression  on  the  mind.  And  the 
traveller  who  would  moralize  upon  the  passing  away  of  the 
aborigines,  ought  not  to  omit  a  trip  to  the  Indian  village  of 
Larette,  a  few  miles  up  the  river  St.  Charles  from  Quebec, 
where  he  can  see  a  remnant  of  the  once  powerful  nation  after 
which  Lake  Huron  was  named. 


[rati 


m 


i: 


i  ill  I 


Viit'ii-iislI.'S 


m 


DOWN    THE    ST.    LAWRENCE. 


r^lm 


I  HAVE  not  visited  Canada  for  the  purpose  of  examining  its 
cities,  and  studying  the  character  of  its  people,  but  solely  with 
a  view  of  hunting  up  some  new  scenery,  and  having  a  little 
sport  in  the  way  of  salmon  fishing.  I  am  writing  this  chapter 
at  the  mouth  of  probably  the  most  remarkable  river  in  North 
America.  But  before  entering  upon  a  description  of  my  sojourn 
here,  it  is  meet,  I  ween,  that  I  should  give  you  an  account  of 
my  journey  down  the  St.  Lawrence. 

On  reaching  Quebec,  I  was  informed  that  there  was  no  regu- 
lar mode  of  conveyance  down  the  great  river,  and  that  I  should 
have  to  take  passage  in  a  transient  ship  or  schooner,  which 
would  land  me  at  my  desired  haven.  This  intelligence  had  a 
tendency  to  dampen  my  spirits,  and  I  had  to  content  myself 
with  sauntering  about  the  citadel  city.  Among  the  places  I 
visited  was  the  fish  market,  where  it  was  my  good  fortune  to 
find  a  small  smack  which  had  brought  a  load  of  fresh  salmon  to 
market,  and  was  on  the  point  of  returning  to  the  Saguenay  for 
another  cargo.  In  less  than  thirty  minutes  after  I  saw  him,  I 
had  struck  a  bargain  with  the  skipper,  transfeiTcd  my  luggage 
on  board  the  smack,  and  was  on  my  way  to  a  region  which  was 
to  me  unknown. 

We  hoisted  sail  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  were  favored  by  a  stiff 
westerly  breeze.  Everything,  in  fact,  connected  with  the  voy- 
age was  beautifully  accidental,  and  I  had  ''a  glorious  time." 
In  the  first  place,  our  craft  was  just  the  thing — schooner-rigged, 
a  fast  sailer,  and  perfectly  safe.  The  skipper — named  Belland 
— was  a  warm-hearted  and  intelligent  Frenchman,  whose  entire 


^*1-'  -'il 


».!  1 


■k  ■  i  • 


f^ik 


;/?  t-  i 


II 


•i| 


51      ' 


266 


DOWN  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


crew  consisted  of  one  boy.  The  day  was  superb,  and  the 
scenery  of  the  river  appeared  to  me  more  like  the  work  of 
enchantment  than  nature. 

The  appearance  of  Quebec,  from  the  eastward,  is  imposing 
in  the  extreme.  Standing  as  it  does  upon  a  lofty  bluff,  its 
massive  ramparts  and  tin  covered  roofs,  domes,  and  cupolas 
suggest  the  idea  of  immense  power  and  opulence.  Just  below 
the  city,  the  St.  Lawrence  spreads  out  to  the  width  of  three  or 
four  miles,  >vhile  from  the  margin  of  either  shore  fades  away  u 
continued  succession  of  hills,  which  vary  from  five  hundred  to 
fifteen  hundred  feet  in  height.  Those  upon  the  north  shore  are 
the  highest,  and  both  sides  of  the  river,  for  a  distance  of  some 
twenty  miles  below  the  city,  are  plentifully  sprinkled  with  the 
white  cottages  of  the  Canadian  peasantry.  As  you  proceed, 
however,  the  river  gradually  wideni,  the  hills  upon  the  north 
shore  become  more  lofty,  reaching  the  elevation  of  two  thousand 
feet;  and,  while  you  only  occasionally  discover  a  farm  house 
upon  their  summits,  the  southern  shore  continues  to  bear  the 
appearance  of  a  settled  country,  where  the  f^pire  of  a  Catholic 
church  is  frequently  seen  looming  above  a  cluster  of  rural 
residences.  In  descending  the  river,  the  first  pictorial  feature 
which  attracts  attention  is  the  fall  of  Montmorency,  pouring 
the  waters  of  a  noble  tributary  immediately  into  the  St.  Law- 
rence. Just  below  this  fall  the  river  is  divided  by  the  island  of 
Orleans,  which  measures  about  twenty  miles  in  length,  and  five 
in  breadth.  It  is  partly  covered  with  forest,  and  partly  culti- 
vated; and,  though  the  shores  are  rather  low,  it  contains  a 
number  of  points  which  are  a  hundred  feet  high.  At  the 
eastern  termination  of  this  island  is  the  purii^h  of  St.  Lawrent, 
a  remarkably  tidy  French  village,  whose  inhabitants  are  said  to 
be  as  simple  in  their  manners,  as  they  are  virtuous,  and  ignorant 
of  the  world  at  large.  On  a  smaller  island,  which  lies  some 
thirty  miles  below  Quebec,  and  directly  opposite  a  noble  cape 
called  Tourment,  is  located  the  quarantine  station  for  the  ship- 
ping of  the  river ;  and  when  I  passed  this  spot,  I  counted  no 
less  than  forty-five  ships  at  anchor,  nearly  all  of  which  were 
freighted  with  foreign  paupers,  who  were  then  dying  of  the 


DOWN  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


267 


ship  fever,  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  individuals  per 
day.  I  might  here  mention  that  the  vessels  usually  seen  on 
this  part  of  the  St.  Lawrence  are  merchant  ships  and  hrigs, 
which  are  chiefly  and  extensively  employed  in  the  lumber  and 
timber  trade.  Another  island  in  this  portion  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence, which  attracts  attention  from  its  peculiar  sylvan  beauty, 
is  called  Goose  Island,  and  owned  by  a  sisterhood  of  Nuns,  who 
have  cultivated  it  extensively.  The  eastern  portion  of  it  is 
covered  with  forest ;  the  channels  on  either  side  are  not  far  from 
ten  miles  wide,  and  it  is  distant  from  Quebec  about  fifty  miles. 

We  landed  here  at  sunset ;  and  while  my  companions  were 
building  a  watch-fire,  and  cooking  a  supper  of  fish,  pork  and 
onions,  I  amused  myself  by  taking  sundry  observations.  I 
found  the  vegetation  of  the  island  quite  luxuriant,  the  common 
hard  woods  of  the  north  prevailing,  but  its  foundation  seemed 
to  be  composed  of  two  distinct  species  of  slate-stone.  Both 
varieties  were  of  the  finest  grain,  and  while  one  was  of  the  rich 
Indian  red,  the  other  was  of  a  deep  blue.  This  portion  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  is  a  good  deal  blocked  up  by  extensive  reefs, 
composed  of  these  identical  slate-stones,  and  at  one  point  they 
extend  so  nearly  across  the  river  as  to  render  ship  navigation 
extremely  dangerous.  On  subsequently  examining  the  high 
hills  on  the  north  shore,  I  found  them  to  be  of  solid  granite, 
veined  with  red  marble  and  extensive  beds  of  quartz,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  stunted  forest  of  pine  and  hemlock.  But  this  geo- 
logical dissertation  is  keeping  my  pen  from  describing  a  night 
picture  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  witness  on  this  beautiful 
but  badly-named  island,  where,  for  sundry  reasons,  we  con- 
cluded to  spend  the  night. 

Our  supper  was  ended,  and  the  skipper  had  paid  his  last  visit 
to  the  little  craft,  and,  with  his  boy,  had  smoked  himself  to 
sleep  by  our  o*mp  fire.  The  sky  was  without  a  cloud,  but 
studded  with  stars^,  and  the  breeze  which  kissed  my  cheek  was 
soft  and  •  ieasant  as  the  breath  of  one  we  dearly  love.  I  had 
seated  myself  upon  a  >ok,  with  my  face  turned  towards  the 
north,  when  my  attention  was  n  tracted  by  a  column  of  light, 
which  shot  upward  to  the  Boni*h  behind  the  distant  mountains. 


$mm 


,!I.. 


268 


DOWN  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


"^"''^pi 


i:     '"'"tit.'Si     _ 


iS. 


Utn 


The  broad  expanse  of  the  St.  Lawrence  was  without  a  ripple, 
and  the  mountains,  together  with  the  column  of  light  and  the 
unnumbered  stars,  were  distinctly  mirrored  in  its  bosom.  While 
looking  upon  this  scene,  the  idea  struck  me  that  the  moon  was 
about  to  rise,  but  I  soon  saw  a  crimson  glow  stealing  up  the 
sky,  and  knew  that  I  was  looking  upon  the  fantastic  perform- 
ances of  the  Northern  Lights.  Broad,  and  of  the  purest 
white,  were  the  many  rays  which  shot  upward  from  behind  the 
mountains,  and  at  equal  distances,  between  the  horizon  and  the 
zenith,  were  displayed  four  arches  of  a  purple  hue,  the  upper- 
most one  melting  imperceptibly  in  the  deep  blue  sky.  On 
again  turning  my  eyes  upward,  I  discovered  that  the  columns 
and  arches  had  all  disappeared,  and  that  the  entire  sky  was 
covered  with  a  crimson  color,  which  resembled  a  lake  of  liquid 
fire,  tossed  into  innumerable  waves.  Strange  were  my  feelings 
as  I  looked  upon  this  scene,  and  thought  of  the  unknown  wil- 
<lerness  before  me,  and  of  the  Being  whose  ways  are  past  find- 
ing out,  and  who  holdeth  the  entire  world,  with  its  cities,  moun- 
tains, rivers,  and  boundless  wilderness,  in  the  hollow  of  His 
hand.  Long  and  intently  did  I  gaze  upon  this  wonder  of  the 
North ;  and  at  the  mement  it  was  fading  away,  a  wild  swan 
passed  over  my  head,  sailing  towards  Hudson's  Bay,  and  as 
his  lonely  song  echoed  along  the  silent  air,  I  retraced  my  steps 
to  the  watch-fire  and  was  soon  a  dreamer. 

That  portion  of  the  St.  Lawrence  extending  between  Goose 
Island  and  ihe  Saguenay  is  about  twenty  miles  wide.  The 
spring  tides  rise  and  fall  a  distance  of  eighteen  feet ;  the  water 
is  salt,  but  clear  and  cold,  and  the  channel  very  deep.  Here 
it  was  that  I  first  saw  the  black  seal,  the  white  porpoise,  and 
the  black  whale.  But  speaking  of  whales,  reminds  ihe  of  "  a 
whaling"  fish  story.  A  short  distance  above  Saguenay  river, 
there  shoots  out  into  the  St.  Lawrence,  to  the  distance  of  about 
eight  miles,  a  broad  sand-bank,  which  greatly  endangers  the 
navigation.  In  descending  the  great  river,  we  had  to  double 
this  cape,  and  it  was  at  this  place  that  I  first  saw  a  whale.  The 
fellow  had  oeen  pursued  by  a  sword-fish,  and  ./hen  we  discov- 
ered him,  his  head  turned  towards  the  beach,  and  he  was  mov- 


¥ 


moon  was 


DOWN  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


269 


ing  with  great  rapidity,  occasionally  performing  a  most  fearful 
leap,  and  uttering  a  sound  that  resembled  the  bellowing  of  a 
thousand  bulls.  The  whale  must  have  been  forty  feet  long,  and 
his  enemy  nearly  twenty ;  and  as  they  hurried  on  their  course 
with  great  speed,  the  sight  was  indeed  terrible.  Frantic  with  rage 
and  pain,  it  so  happened  that  the  more  unwieldy  individual  for- 
got his  bearings,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes  he  was  floundering 
about  on  the  sand-bar,  in  about  ten  feet  of  water,  when  the 
rascally  sword  immediately  beat  a  retreat.  After  a  while,  how- 
ever, the  whale  concluded  to  rest  himself,  but  as  the  tide  was 
going  out,  his  intentions  were  toon  changed,  and  he  began  to 
roll  himself  about,  and  slap  the  water  with  his  tail  for  the  pur- 
pose of  getting  clear.  His  efforts,  in  a  short  time,  proved  suc- 
cessful, and  when  we  last  saw  him,  ho  was  in  the  deepest  part 
of  the  river,  moving  rapidly  towards  the  gulf,  and  spouting 
up  the  water,  as  if  congratulating  himself  upon  his  narrow  es- 
cape. ' 

In  about  two  hours  after  witnCoSing  this  incident,  our  boat 
was  moored  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay ;  and  of  the  compa- 
ratively unknown  wilderness  which  this  stream  waters,  my  rea- 
ders will  find  some  information  in  the  next  chapter.* 

*  During  the  summer  of  1852,  I  made  a  second  visit  to  the  River  Sa- 
guenay, accompanied  by  the  Rev.  Louis  L.  Noble  and  our  wives.  We 
chartered  a  schooner  at  Quebec,  and  a  charming  account  of  our  miscella- 
neoug  adventures  was  written  by  my  friend,  and  published  in  the  Litera- 
11/  World,  on  our  return. 


fll 


Hi  )J 


?.   ■        ^ , 


THE    SAGUENAY    RIVER. 


r 


1  •!:"•?'' tti?cv,\ 


an**' 


ij?>. 


About  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  north  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  on  one  of  the  trails  leading  to  Hudson's  Bay,  lies  a 
beautiful  lake  called  St.  John.  It  is  about  forty  miles  long, 
and  surrounded  with  a  heavily  timbered,  and  rather  level  coun- 
try. Its  inlets  are  numerous,  and  twelve  of  them  are  rivers. 
Its  waters  are  clear,  and  abound  in  a  great  variety  of  uncom- 
monly fine  fish.  The  principal  outlet  to  this  lake  is  the  Sagiie- 
nay  River  which  runs  in  a  southerly  direction,  and  empties  into 
the  St.  Lawrence.  It  is  the  largest  tributary  of  the  great 
river,  and  unquestionably  one  of  the  most  remarkable  on  the 
continent.  Its  original  Indian  name  was  Chicoutimi,  signify- 
ing deep  water ;  but  the  early  Jesuit  missionaries,  who  have 
scattered  their  Saint-anic  names  over  this  entire  country, 
thought  proper  to  give  it  the  name  which  it  now  bears,  the 
roundabout  interpretation  of  which  is,  No8e  of  the  Sack.  This 
name  suggests  to  the  world  that  the  nose  of  St.  John  must  have 
been  a  very  long  nose,  and  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  unique 
specimen  of  French  poetry. 

The  scenery  of  the  Saguenay  is  wild  and  romantic  to  an  un- 
common degree.  The  first  half  of  its  course  averages  half  a 
mile  in  width,  and  runs  through  an  untrodden  wilderness  of 
pine  and  spruce-covered  hills;  it  abounds  in  waterfalls  and 
rapids,  and  is  only  navigable  for  the  Indian  canoe.  A  few  miles 
below  the  most  southern  fall  on  the  river,  is  located  the  village 
of  Chicoutimi,  where  an  extensive  lumber  business  is  transacted, 
and  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  have  an  important  post.  The 
village  has  an  ancient  appearance,  and  contains  about  five  hun- 


THE  RIVER  SAGUENAT. 


271 


(Ired  inhabitants,  chiefly  Canadian  French.  The  only  curiosity 
in  the  place  is  a  rude  Catholic  church,  which  is  said  to  have  been 
built  by  Jesuit  missionaries  upwards  of  one  hundred  years  ago. 
It  occupies  the  centre  of  a  grassy  lawn,  surrounded  with  shrub- 
bery, backed  by  a  cluster  of  wood-crowned  hills,  and  commands 
a  fine  prospect,  not  only  of  the  Saguenay,  but  also  of  a  spa- 
cious bay,  into  which  there  empties  a  noble  mountain  stream, 
now  known  as  Chicoutimi  River.  In  the  belfry  of  this  venera- 
ble church  hangs  a  clear-toned  bell,  with  an  inscription  upon  it 
which  the  learning  of  Canada  (with  all  its  learned  and  unnum- 
bered priests,)  has  not  yet  been  able  to  translate  or  expound. 
But,  great  as  is  the  mystery  of  this  inscription,  it  is  less  mys- 
terious to  my  mind  than  are  the  motives  of  the  Romish  Church 
in  planting  the  cross  in  the  remotest  corners  of  the  earth,  as 
in  the  mightiest  of  cities. 

About  ten  miles  south  of  Chicoutimi,  there  recedes  from  the 
west  bank  of  the  Saguenay,  to  the  distance  of  ten  miles,  a  beau- 
tiful expanse  of  water  called  Grand  Bay.  The  original  name 
of  this  water  was  "Ha,  Ha,"  descriptive  of  the  surprise  which 
the  Frpnch  experienced  when  they  first  entered  it,  supposing 
that  it  was  the  Saguenay,  until  their  shallop  groundud  on  the 
north-western  shore.  At  the  head  thereof  is  another  settle- 
ment, similar  to  Chicoutimi.  Between  these  two  places  the 
Saguenay  is  rather  shallow,  (when  compared  with  the  remain- 
der of  its  course,)  and  varies  in  width  from  two  and  a  half  to 
three  miles.  The  tides  of  the  ocean  are  observable  as  far  north 
as  Chicoutimi,  and  this  entire  section  of  the  river  is  navigablo 
for  ships  of  the  largest  class. 

That  portion  of  the  Saguenay  extending  from  Grand  Bay  to 
the  St.  Lawrence,  a  distance  of  sixty  miles,  is  greatly  distin- 
guished for  its  wild  and  picturesque  scenery.  I  know  not  that  I 
can  better  portray  to  my  reader's  mind  the  peculiarity  of  this 
river,  than  by  the  following  method.  Imagine  an  extensive 
country  of  rocky  and  thinly-clad  mountains,  suddenly  separated 
by  some  convulsion  of  nature,  so  as  to  form  an  almost  bottom- 
less chasm,  varying  from  one  to  two  miles  in  width;  and  then 
imagine  this  chasm  suddenly  half-filled  with  water,  and  that 


1  !4  ] 


272 


THE  RIVER  SAQUBNAY. 


m.^M"'-:''ri 


I-''' 


i:     !• 


m 


m 


mmm 


J'  ^1 


!'t 


the  moss  of  centuries  has  softened  the  rugged  walls  on  either 
side,  and  you  will  have  a  pretty  accurate  idea  of  the  Saguenay. 
The  shores  of  this  river  are  composed  principally  of  granite, 
and  every  bend  presents  you  with  an  imposing  bluff,  the  ma- 
jority of  which  are  eight  hundred  feet  high,  and  many  of  tbem 
upwards  of  fifteen  hundred.  And,  generally  speaking,  these 
towering  bulwarks  are  not  content  to  loom  perpendicularly  into 
the  air,  but  they  must  needs  bend  over,  as  if  to  look  at  their 
own  savage  features  reflected  in  the  dcup.  Ay,  and  that  word 
deep  but  tells  the  simple  truth  ;  for  the  flood  that  rolls  beneath 
is  fearfully  black  and  cold.  To  speak  without  a  figure,  and 
from  actual  measurement,  I  can  state  that  many  portions  of  the 
Saguenay  are  one  thousand  feet  deep;  and  the  shallowest  parts 
not  much  less  than  one  hundred.  In  many  places,  too,  the 
water  is  as  deep  five  feet  from  the  rocky  barriers  as  it  is  in  the 
centre  of  the  stream.  The  feelings  which  filled  my  breast,  and 
the  thoughts  which  oppressed  my  bruin,  as  I  paddled  by  these 
places  in  my  canoe,  were  allied  to  those  which  almost  over- 
whelmed me  when  I  first  looked  upward  from  below  the  fall  to 
the  mighty  flood  of  Niagara.  Awful  beyond  expression,  I  can 
assure  you,  is  the  sensation  which  one  experiences  in  sailing 
along  the  Saguenay,  to  raise  his  eye  heavenward,  and  behold 
hanging,  directly  over  bis  head,  a  mass  of  granite,  apparently 
ready  to  totter  and  fall,  and  weighing,  perhaps,  a  million  tons. 
Terrible  and  sublime,  beyond  the  imagery  of  the  most  daring 
poet,  are  these  cliffs ;  and  while  they  proclaim  the  omnipotent 
power  of  God,  they,  at  the  same  time,  whisper  into  the  ear  of 
man  that  he  is  but  the  moth  which  flutters  in  the  noontide  air. 
And  yet,  is  it  not  enough  to  fill  the  heart  of  man  with  holy 
pride  and  unbounded  love,  to  remember  that  the  soul  within  him 
shall  have  but  commenced  its  existence,  when  all  these  moun- 
tains shall  have  been  consumed  as  a  scroll  ? 

It  is  to  the  Saguenay  that  I  am  indebted  for  a  most  imposing 
storm  picture.  It  had  been  an  oppressive  day,  and,  as  I  was 
passing  up  the  rivei',  at  a  late  hour  in  the  afternoon,  a  sudden 
gust  of  wind  came  rushing  down  the  stream,  causing  my  Indian 
companion  to  bow,  as  if  in  prayer,  and  then  to  urge  our  frail 


IS  ■   11 


THE  RIVER  BAaUENAY. 


273 


canoe  towards  a  little  rocky  island,  upon  which  we  immediately 
landed.  Soon  as  we  had  surmounted  our  refuge,  the  sky  was 
overcast  with  a  ^all  of  blackness,  which  completely  enveloped 
the  cliffs  %n  either  side,  and  gave  the  roaring  waters  a  deathl.ke 
hue.  Then  broke  forth,  from  above  our  heads,  the  heavy  roar 
of  thunder,  and  as  it  gradually  increased,  and  became  more 
threatening  and  impetuous,  its  volleys  were  answered  by  echoes, 
which  seemed  to  have  been  startled  from  every  crag  in  the  wil- 
derness, while  flashes  of  the  most  vivid  lightning  were  con- 
stantly illuminating  the  gloomy  storm-cavern  which  appeared 
before  us.  Down  upon  his  knees  again  fell  my  poor  Indian 
comrade,  and  I  sat  by  his  side  trembling  with  fear.  Soon, 
however,  the  wind  ceased  to  blow,  the  thunder  to  roar,  the 
lightning  to  flash;  and,  in  less  than  an  hour  after  its  com- 
mencement the  storm  had  subsided,  and  that  portion  of  the 
Saguenay  was  glowing  beneath  the  crimson*  rays  of  the  setting 
sun. 

From  what  I  have  Avritten,  my  reader  may  be  impressed  Avith 
the  idea  that  this  river  is  incapable  of  yielding  pleasurable  sen- 
sations.    Sail  along  its  shores,  on  a  pleasant  day,  when  its  cliffs 
are  partly  hidden  in  shadow,  and  covered  with  a  gauze-like  at- 
mosphere, and  they  will  fill  your  heart  with  images  of  beauty. 
Or,  if  you  would  enjoy  a  still  greater  variety,  let  your  thoughts 
flow  away  from  the  blue  smoke  which  arises  from  an  Indian 
encampment  hidden  in  a  dreamy-looking  cove ;  let  your  eye  fol- 
low an  eagle  sweeping  along  liis  airy  pathway,  near  the  summit 
of  the  clifl's,  or  glance  across  the  watery  plain,  and  see  the  silver 
salmon  leaping  by  hundreds  into  the  air,  for  their  insect  food. 
Hero,  too,  you  may  always  discover  a  number  of  seals,  bobbing 
their  heads  out  of  the  water,  as  if  watching  your  every  move- 
ment ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  a  drove  of  white  porpoises,  roll- 
ing their  huge  bodies  along  the  waters,  ever  and  anon  spouting 
a  shower  of  liquid  diamonds  into  the  air.     O^ycs,  manifold, 
indeed,  and  beautiful  beyond  compare,  are  the  charms  of  the 
Saguenay. 

Although  my  account  of  this  river  has,  thus  far,  been  of  a 
general  character,  I  would  not  omit  to  mention,  as  stupendous 
18 


R-! 


W,m 


•Jff^l' 


m 


!■>  /'ill 


274 


THE  EIVER  8AGUENAT. 


gems  of  scenery,  Trinity  Point,  Eternity  Cape,  The  Tableau, 
and  Le  Tete  du  Boule.  The  peculiarities  of  these  promontories 
are  so  well  described  by  their  very  names,  that  I  shall  refrain 
from  attempting  a  particular  description.  Eternity  Gape  is  the 
most  imposing,  and  with  it  is  associated  this  incident.  An  In- 
dian hunter  is  said  to  have  once  followed  a  moose  to  the  brow 
of  the  cliff,  and  after  the'deer  had  made  a  fatal  spring  far  down 
into  the  deep  water,  the  man  lost  his  foothold  and  perished 
with  his  prey. 

The  wilderness  through  which  this  river  runs  is  of  such  a 
character  that  its  shores  can  never  be  greatly  changed  in  their 
external  appearance.  Only  a  small  proportion  of  its  soil  can 
ever  be  brought  under  cultivation ;  and,  as  its  forests  are  a  good 
deal  stunted,  its  lumbering  resources  are  far  from  being  inex- 
haustible. The  wealth  which  it  contains  is  probably  of  a  min- 
eral character ;  and  if  the  reports  I  hear  are  correct,  it  abounds 
in  iron  ore.  That  it  would  yield  an  abundance  of  fine  marble, 
I  am  certain ;  for,  in  passing  up  this  stream,  the  observing  eye 
will  frequently  fall  upon  a  broad  vein  of  an  article  as  pure  as 
alabaster. 

How  is  it,  many  people  are  led  to  inquire,  that  so  little  has 
been  known  of  the  Saguenay  country,  until  quite  recently  ?  Tlie 
question  is  easily  solved.  It  is  a  portion  of  that  vast  territory 
which  has  heretofore  been  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company.  Its  Posts  on  the  Saguenay  and  St.  Law- 
rence, so  far  as  collecting  furs  is  concerned,  are  a  dead  letter, 
and  the  journeys  of  its  distinguislied  Governor,  Sir  George 
Simpson,  are  hereafter  to  be  confined  to  the  extreme  north. 

The  man  who  deserves  the  most  credit  for  encroaching  upon 
tho  possessions  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  proving  to 
the  world  that  its  power  is  not  without  limit,  is  William  Price, 
Esq.,  of  Quebec.  All  the  saw-mills  located  on  tho  Saguenay 
and  tho  lower  St.  Lawrence  were  established  by  him,  and  arc 
now  conducted  at  his  expense.  He  gives  employment  to  some 
two  or  three  thousand  iicn,  and  sends  to  England  annually 
about  ono  hundred  ship-loads  of  lumber,  in  tho  shape  of  deals. 
He  is  probably  more  extensively  engaged  in  the  lumbering  bu- 


THE  RIVER  SAGUENAY. 


276 


ainess  than  any  other  single  individual,  and  might  with  propri- 
ety be  called  "  The  Lumber  King."  He  is  a  thorough-going 
business  man,  and,  did  I  not  know  the  fact  to  be  otherwise,  I 
should  set  him  down,  on  account  of  his  enterprise,  as  a  Yankee. 
Many  of  .the  ships  alluded  to  ascend  the  Saguenay,  to  obtain 
lumber,  as  far  as  Chicoutimi,  and  it  struck  me  as  singularly 
paradoxical  to  see  ships  winding  up  that  river,  whose  legitimate 
home  would  seem  to  be  the  broad  ocean.  The  current  of  the 
Saguenay  flows,  in  some  places,  at  the  rate  of  seven  miles  per 
hour,  but  when  there  is  any  wind  at  all,  it  blows  quite  heavily 
direct  from  the  north  or  south,  so  that,  with  the  assistance  of 
the  tide,  the  upward-bound  ships  or  brigs  manage  to  get  along 
without  much  difficulty.  The  only  steamboat  Avhich  navigates 
this  river  is  the  Pocahontas,  and  is  the  property  of  Mr.  Price. 
She  is  commanded  by  a  gentleman  who  understands  his  busi- 
ness ;  and  I  can  assure  the  lovers  of  scenery  everywhere  that  a 
sail  up  the  Saguenay,  in  this  steamer,  would  be  an  event  they 
could  not  easily  forget.  For  the  benefit  of  summer-tourists,  I 
would  here  mention  the  fact,  that,  for  about  three  months  in 
the  year,  a  Qucbe.c  steamer  mako^  an  occasional  trip  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  by  way  of  the  river  Du  Loup,  which  is 
on  the  Canadian  route  to  Halifax. 

In  speaking  of  the  Saguenay,  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  its 
original  proprietors,  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  are  known  as  the 
Mountaineers.  Of  course  it  is  the  duty  of  my  pen  to  record 
the  fact,  that,  whore  onco  flourished  a  large  nation  of  li-ave 
warriors,  there  now  exists  a  little  band  of  about  ono  hundred 
liunilies.  Judging  from  what  I  have  heard  and  scon,  the  Moun- 
taineers were  onco  the  very  flower  of  this  northern  wilderness, 
oven  as  the  Chippcwas  were  once  the  glory  of  the  Lake  Supe- 
rior region.  The  Mountaineers  of  the  present  day  arc  suffi- 
ciently educated  to  speak  a  smattering  of  French ;  but  they 
know  nothing  of  the  true  God,  and  aro  as  poor  in  spirit  as  they 
aro  indigent  with  regard  to  tho  necessaries  of  life.  The  men 
of  this  nation  are  rather  short,  but  well-formed ;  and  tho  women 
arc  beautiful.  They  are  proud  in  spirit,  intelligent,  and  kind- 
hearted  ;  and  mtiny  of  them,  it  is  pleasant  to  know,  are  no  longer 


■'Ik. 


276 


THE  RIVER  SAQUENAT. 


■  -^'i^-'fTJ; 


the  victims  of  the  baneful  "  fire-water."  For  this  blessing  they 
are  indebted  to  the  Romish  priesthood,  which  fact  I  record  with 
great  pleasure.  The  Mountaineers  are  a  particularly  hone'st 
people,  and  great  friends  to  the  stranger  white  man.  They  are 
also  distinguished  for  their  expertness  in  hunting,  and  take 
pleasure  in  recounting  the  exploits  of  their  forefathers.  And 
their  language,  according  to  a  Catholic  missionary,  Pierre  do 
Roche,  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  purest  Indian  languages  on  the 
continent.  It  abounds  in  Latin  words,  and  is  capable  oi  being 
regularly  constructed  and  translated.  The  qualities,  in  fine, 
which  make  the  history  of  this  people  interesting,  are  manifold; 
and  it  is  sad  to  think  of  the  rapidity  with  which  they  are  wither- 
ing away,  even  as  the  leaves  of  a  premature  autumn. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  give  you  a  brief  description  of 
Tadousac,  where  I  have  been  spending  a  few  days,  and  whence 
I  date  my  chapters.  That  name  is  a  French  corruption  of  the 
Indian  word  Saguenay.  The  place  is  situated  directly  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  and  commands  a  fine  prospect  of  that 
river,  as  well  as  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  which,  at  this  point,  is 
nearly  thirty  miles  in  width.  Immediately  at  the  base  of  the 
hill  upon  which  the  hamlet  stands,  is  a  beautiful  bay,  hemmed 
in  with  hills  of  solid  rock.  The  place  is  composed  of  liouses 
belonging  to  an  Indian  trading-post,  and  another  dwelling,  occu- 
pied by  a  worthy  Scotchman,  named  Ovington,  who  is  a  pilot 
by  profession.  The  door  of  my  friend's  cabin  is  always  open 
to  the  admission  of  tourists ;  and  if  others,  who  may  chance  to 
stop  here,  are  as  kindly  treated  as  I  was,  they  cannot  but  be 
thankful.  In  froiic  of  the  trading-post  are  planted  a  few  can- 
non, and  directly  beside  them,  at  the  present  time,  is  a  small 
Indian  encampment.  In  a  rock-bound  bay,  half  a  mile  north 
of  my  temporary  residence,  is  an  extensive  lumbering  estab- 
lishment, belonging  to  William  Price.  This  spot  is  the  princi- 
pal port  of  the  Saguenay,  and  the  one  where  belongs  the  Poca- 
hontas steamboat.  About  a  dozen  paces  from  the  table,  where 
I  am  now  writing,  is  the  ruin  of  a  Jesuit  religious  establishment, 
considered  the  great  curiosity  of  this  region.  The  appearance 
of  the  ruin  is  not  imposing^  as  you  can  discover  nothing  but  the 


THE  RIVER  SAGUENAT. 


277 


foundations  upon  which  the  ancient  edifice  rested ;  but  it  is  con- 
fidently affirmed  that  upon  this  spot  once  stood  the  first  stone 
and  mortar  building  ever  erected  on  the  continent  of  America. 
And  this  statement  I  am  not  disposed  to  question,  for  from  the 
very  centre  of  the  ruin  has  grown  up  a  cluster  of  pine  trees, 
which  must  have  been  exposed  to  the  wintry  blasts  of  at  least 
two  hundred  years.  The  fate,  and  the  very  names  of  those  who 
first  pitched  their  tents  in  this  wilderness,  and  here  erected  an 
altar  to  the  God  of  their  fathers,  are  alike  unknown.  Tadousac 
is,  indeed,  at  tha  present  time,  nothing  more  than  it  was  in 
1720,  when  old  Charlevoix  spoke  of  it  as  follows :  "  The  great- 
est part  of  our  geographers  have  placed  a  town  here,  but  whBre 
there  never  was  but  one  French  house  and  some  huts  of  savages 
who  carried  away  their  huts  and  booths,  when  they  went  away ; 
and  this  was  the  whole  matter.  It  is  true,  that  this  port  has 
beta  a  long  time  the  resort  of  all  the  savage  nations  of  the 
north  and  east,  and  that  the  French  resorted  thither  as  soon  as 
the  navigation  was  free ;  the  missionaries  also  made  use  of  the 
opportunity,  and  came  to  trade  here  for  Heaven ;  and  wlien 
the  trade  was  over,  the  merchants  returned  to  their  homes,  th6 
savages  took  their  way  to  their  villages  or  forests,  and  the  Gos- 
pel laborers  followed  the  last,  to  complete  their  instructions." 


;<**♦•» 


' ^u?>^  .JiJ 


HUM 


'^\.i^! 


if     ! 


!r    -.iv     ■  ,  ,: 


SALMON   FISHING   ADVENTURES. 


inU: 


^\ 


^\ . 


Ok! 


I  INTEND  to  devote  the  present  chapter  to  the  acknowledged 
king  of  all  the  finny  tribes,  the  lithe,  wild  and  beautiful  sal- 
mon, lie  pays  an  annual  visit  to  all  the  tributaries  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  lying  between  Quebec  and  Blc  Island,  (where  com- 
mences the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,)  but  he  is  most  abundant  on 
the  north  shore,  and  in  those  streams  which  are  beyond  the 
jurisdiction  of  civilization.  He  usually  makes  his  first  appear- 
ance about  the  twentieth  of  May,  and  continues  in  season  for 
two 'months.  Nearly  all  the  streams  in  this  region  abound  in 
waterfalls,  but  those  arc  seldom  found  which  the  salmon  docs 
not  surmount  in  his  "excelsior"  pilgrimage;  and  the  stories 
related  of  his  leaps  are  truly  wonderful.  It  is  not  often  that 
he  is  found,  man  bound  at  the  head  of  the  streams  ho  may  have 
ascended  ;  but  when  thus  found  and  captured,  his  flesh  is  white, 
skin  black,  and  his  form,  "  long,  lank,  and  lean  as  is  the  rib- 
bed sea-sand."  His  weight  is  commonly  about  fifteen  pounds, 
but  he  is  sometimes  taken  weighing  full  forty  pounds.  The 
salmon  is  an  important  article  of  export  from  this  region,  and 
is  also  'extensively  used  by  the  Indians.  The  common  mode 
for  taking  them  is  with  a  stationary  net,  which  is  set  just  on 
the  margin  of  the  river,  at  low  water.  It  is  customary  with 
the  salmon  to  ascend  the  St.  Lawrence  as  near  the  shore  as 
possible,  and  their  running  time  is  when  the  tide  is  high  ;  the 
consequence  is,  that  they  enter  the  net  at  one  tide,  and  are  taken 
out  at  another;  and  it  is  frequently  the  case, .that  upwards  of 
three  hundred  are  taken  at  one  time.  The  Indian  mode  for 
taking  them  is  with  the  spear,  by  torchlight.     Two  Indiane 


/**fi:i,^. 


SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


279 


generally  enter  a  canoe,  and  while  one  paddles  it  noiselessly 
along,  the  other  holds  forth  the  light,  (which  attracts  the  at- 
tention of  the  fish,  and  causes  them  to  approach  their  enemy) 
and  pierces  them  with  the  cruel  spear.  This  mode  of  taking 
the  salmon  is  to  be  deprecated ;  but  the  savage  must  live,  and 
possesses  no  other  means  for  catching  them.  It  is  but  seldom 
that  an  Indian  takes  more  than  a  dozen  during  a  single  night, 
for  he  cannot  afford  to  waste  the  bounties  which  he  receives 
from  Nature.  For  preserving  the  salmon,  the  Canadians  have 
three  modes : — First,  by  putting  them  in  salt  for  three  days, 
and  then  smoking  them ;  secondly,  by  regularly  salting  them 
down  as  you  would  mackerel ;  and,  thirdly,  by  boiling  and  then 
pickling  them  in  vinegar.  The  Indians  smoke  them ;  but  only 
to  a  limited  extent. 

I  must  now  give  you  some  account  of  my  experience  in  the 
way  of  salmon-fishing  with  the  fly,  of  which  glorious  sport  I 
have  recently  bad  an  abundance.  If,  however,  I  should  indite 
a  number  of  episodes,  you  will  please  remember  that  "  it  is  my 
way,"  and  that  I  deem  it  a  privilege  of  the  angler  to  be  as 
wayward  in  his  discourse  as  are  the  channels  of  his  favorite 
mountain  streams.  ,      .. 

My  first  salmon  expedition  of  the  season  was  to  the  St.  Mar- 
garet River.  I  had  two  companions  with  mo  ;  one,  an  accom- 
plished fly-fisher  of  Quebec,  and  the  other,  the  principal  man 
of  Tadousac,  a  lumber  manufacturer.  We  went  in  a  gig-boat 
belonging  to  the  latter,  and,  having  started  at  nine  o'clock,  we 
reached  our  place  o^dcstination  by  twelve.  We  found  the 
river  uncommonly  high,  and  a  little  rily.  Wo  made  a  desperate 
effort,  however,  and  threw  the  line  about  three  hours',  captui*- 
four  salmon,  only  one  of  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  take. 
He  was  a  handsome  fellow,  weighing  seventeen  pounds,  and  in 
good  condition ;  ho  afforded  my  companions  a  good  deal  of  fun, 
and  placed  me  in  a  peculiar  situation.  He  had  taken  the  hook 
when  I  was  wading  in  swift  water  up  to  my  middle,  and  soon 
as  ho  discovered  his  predicament,  he  made  a  sudden  wheel,  and 
started  down  the  stream.  My  rod  bent  nearly  double,  and  I 
saw  that  I  must  allow  him  all  the  line  he  wanted ;  and  l.'vving 


■t    >t 


H 

?;JaE 

If^raji,  ||i^ 

BjiK"^iffl 

m 

p^^ 

L  txfiS 

B«itijVi{yi| 

% 


M 


I'-n 


280 


SALMON  FISHINO  ADVENTURES. 


only  three  hundred  feet  on  my  reel,  I  found  it  necessary  to 
follow  him  with  all  speed.  In  doing  so,  I  lost  my  footing,  and 
•was  swept  by  the  current  against  a  pile  of  logs ;  meantime  my 
reel  was  in  the  water,  and  whizzing  away  at  a  tremendous  rate. 
The  log  upon  which  I  depended  happened  to  be  in  a  balancing 
condition,  and,  when  I  attempted  to  surmount  it,  it  plunged 
into  the  current,  and  floated  down  the  stream,  having  your  hum- 
ble servant  astride  of  one  end,  and  clinging  to  it  with  all  his 
might.  Onward  went  the  salmon,  the  log,  and  the  fisherman. 
Finally  the  log  found  its  way  into  an  eddy  of  the  river,  and, 
while  it  was  swinging  about,  as  if  out  of  mere  deviltry,  I  left 
it,  and  fortunately  reached  the  shore.  My  Yih  having  been 
spared,  I  was  more  anxious  than  ever  to  take  the  life  of  the 
salmon  which  had  caused  my  ducking,  and  so  I  held  aloft  the 
rod,  and  continued  down  the  stream,  over  an  immense  number 
of  logs  and  rocks,  which  seemed  to  have  been  placed  there  for 
my  especial  botheration.  On  coming  in  sight  of  my  fish,  I 
found  him  in  still  water,  with  his  belly  turned  upward,  and 
completely  drowned.  I  immediately  drew  him  on  a  sand-bank 
near  by,  and,  while  engaged  in  the  reasonable  employment  of 
drying  ray  clothes,  my  brother  fishermen  came  up  to  congratu- 
late me  upon  my  success,  but  laughing,  in  the  mean  time,  most 
heartily.  The  lumber  merchant  said  that  the  log  I  had  been 
riding  belonged  to  him,  and  it  was  his  intention  to  charge  me 
one  shilling  for  my  passage  from  the  rift  where  I  had  hooked 
the  salmon,  to  the  spot  where  I  had  landed  him,  which  was  in 
full  view  of  the  Saguenay ;  and  my  Quebec  friend  remarked, 
that  he  knew  the  people  of  Yankee-land  had  a  queer  way  of 
doing  things,  but  he  was  not  acquainted  with  their  peculiar 
mode  of  taking  salmon.  As  may  be  readily  imagined,  we  re- 
traced our  steps  back  to  the  log  shanty  where  we  had  stopped, 
and,  having  carefully  stowed  away  our  salmon,  we  laid  aside 
our  fishing  tackle,  and  made  arrangements  for  a  little  sport  of 
another  kind. 

The  hamlet  of  St.  Margaret,  where  we  spent  the  night,  con- 
tains some  eight  or  ten  log  shanties,  which  are  occupied  by 
about  twenty  families,  composed  of  Canadians,  Indians,  and 


SALMON  FISHmO  ADVENTURES. 


281 


a. 


hitlf-breeds.  They  obtain  their  living  by  "  driving"  logs,  and 
are  ap  happy  as  they  are  ignorant.  Anxious  to  see  what  we 
could  of  society  among  this  people,  we  sent  forth  a  manifesto, 
calling  upon  the  citizens  generally  to  attend  a  dance  at  the 
cabin  of  a  certain  mau  whom  we  had  engaged  to  give  the  party, 
at  our  expense.  Punctual  to  the  appointed  hour,  the  assembly 
came  together.  Many  of  the  men  did  not  take  the  trouble  even 
to  wash  their  hands,  or  to  put  on  a  coat  before  coming  to  the 
party ;  but  the  women  were  neatly  dressed  with  blue  and  scar- 
let petticoats,  over  which  were  displayed  night-gowns  of  white 
cotton.  The  fiddler  was  an  Indian,  and  the  dancing  hall  (some 
twelve  feet  square,)  was  lighted  with  a  wooden  lamp,  supplied 
with  seal  oil,  The  danc  ■  was  without  any  particular  method; 
and,  when  a  gentleman  trished  to  trip  the  light  fantastic  toe  he 
had  only  to  station  himself  on  the  floor,  when  one  of  his  friends 
would  select  his  partner,  and  lead  her  up  for  his  acceptance. 
The  consequence  was,  that,  if  a  man  wished  to  dance  with  any 
particular  lady,  he  was  obliged  to  make  a  previous  arrangement 
with  his  leading-up  friend.  The  fiddler  not  only  furnished  •  all 
the  music,  but  also  jh  ormcd  a  goodly  portion  of  the  dancing, 
— fiddling  and  duncing  at  the  same  time.  The  suppcrwas  laid 
on  the  table  at  ten  o'clock,  and  consisted  principally  of  dried 
beaver  tail,  and  <  uriboo  meat,  fried  and  boiled  salmon,  (which 
was  cooked  out  of  doors,  near  the  entrance  to  the  cabin,)  rye 
bread,  maple  molasses,  and  tea. 

The  party  broke  up  at  twelve  o'clock,  when  we  retired, to  the 
cabin,  where  we  had  secured  lodgings,  and  it  is  an  actual  fact 
that  our  sleeping  room  on  that  night  was  occupied,  not  only  by 
oursolves,  but  by  two  women,  one  man,  and  four  children, 
(divided  into  three  beds,)  all  members  of  the  same  family  with 
whom  we  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  aecommodations.  On  the 
following  morning  we  rose  at  an  early  hour,  and  again  tried 
our  luck  at  salmon  fishing,  but  only  killed  a  few  trout,  where- 
upon we  boarded  our  gig,  and  started  down  the  romantic  Sague- 
nay,  telling  stories  and  singing  songs.  Another  river,  in  this 
region,  which  afibrds  good  salmon  fishing,  is  the  Esquemain.  It 
empties  into  the  St.  Lawrence,  about  twenty  miles  east  of 


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SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


Saguenay.  It  is  a  cold,  clear  and  rapid  stream,  abounding  in 
rapids  and  deep  pools.  At  its  mouth  is  located  a  saw-mill,  but 
its  water-works  are  so  managed  as  not  to  interfere  with  the 
salmon.  The  fish  of  this  stream  ascend  to  a  great  distance, 
and,  though  rather  small,  are  exceedingly  abundant.  The  best 
fishing  in  the  river  is  at  the  foot  of  the  water-fall,  which  forms 
a  sheet  of  foam,  about  one  mile  above  the  mouth.  My  Quebec 
friend  accompanied  me  to  this  place,  and  though  we  only  threw 
the  fly  about  six  hours,  (three  in  the  evening  and  three  in  the 
morning,)  yet  we  killed  thirteen  salmon,  without  losing  a  single 
line,  and  with  the  loss  of  only  three  flies.  Owing  to  the  bushy 
shores  of  the  stream,  we  were  compelled  to  fish  standing  upon 
boulders,  located  in  its  centre;  and  whenever  we  hcoked  a  fish, 
there  was  no  alternative  but  to  plunge  into  the  current,  and  trust 
to  fortune.  For  some  unaccountable  reason,  (of  course,  it  could 
not  have  been  our  fault,)  wo  lost  more  than  half  of  those  we 
hooked.  But  it  was  worth  a  moderate  fortune  to  see  the  mag- 
nificent leaps  which  the  fish  performed,  not  only  when  they 
took  the  fly,  but  when  they  attempted  to  escape.  There  was 
not  one  individual  that  did  not  give  us  a  race  of  at  least  half  a 
mile;  Tlie  largest  taken,  during  this  expedition,  was  killed  by 
my  companion,  and  caused  more  trouble  than  all  his  other 
prizes.  Not  only  did  the  fellow  attempt  to  clear  himself  by 
stemming  the  foam  of  a  rapid,  and  rubbing  his  nose  against  a 
rock,  to  break  the  hook,  but  he  also  swept  himself  completely 
round  a  large  boulder,  poked  his  head  into  a  net,  and  ran,  with 
the  speed  of  lightning  to  the  extreme  end  of  his  line.  It  took 
ray  friend  forty  minutes  to  land  this  salmon,  and  I  assure  you 
ho  was  particularly  pleased  when  ho  found  that  his  fish  wciglied 
one  pound  more  than  the  largest  I  had  taken.  Tl»o  fact  was 
our  rods  were  almost  precisely  alike,  in  length  and  strength, 
and  as  two  countries  were  represented  in  our  persons,  the  strife 
between  us  was  quite  desperate.  I  will  acknowledge  that  the 
Canada  gentleman  took  tlie  largest  salmon,  but  the  States 
angler  took  them  in  the  greatest  number.  Notwithstanding  all 
the  fine  £port  that  wo  enjoyed  on  the  Esquomain,  I  am  com- 
pelled to  state  that  it  was  more  than  oountorbalanced  by  the 


SALMON  FISHINQ  ADVENTURES. 


288 


sufferings  we  endured  from  the  black  fly  and  musqueto.  The 
black  fly  is  abcmt  half  as  large  as  the  common  house  fly,  and, 
though  it  bites  you  only  in  the  day  time,  they  are  as  abundant 
in  the  air  as  the  sand  upon  the  sea  shore,  and  venomous  to  an 
uncommon  degree.  The  musqueto  of  this  region  is  an  uncom- 
monly gaunt,  long-legged,  and  hungry  creature,  and  his  howl 
is  peculiarly  horrible.  We  had  been  almost  devoured  by  the 
black  flies,  during  the  afternoon,  and  as  soon  as  darkness  came, 
we  secured  a  couple  of  beds  in  a  Frenchman's  house,  and,  as 
we  tumbled  in,  congratulated  ourselves  upon  a  little  comfortable 
repose.  It  was  an  exceedingly  sultry  night,  and  though  we 
were  both  in  a  complete  fever,  from  the  fly  poison  circulating  in 
our  veins,  Jho  heat  excelled  the  fever,  and  our  bodies  were 
literally  in  a  melting  condition.  We  endeavored  to  find  relief 
by  lying  upon  the  bare  floor,  with  no  covering  but  a  single 
sheet,  and  this  arrangement  might  have  answered,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  flood  of  musquetos  which  poured  into  the  room, 
as  one  of  us  happened  to  open  a  window  to  obtain  fresh  air. 
Every  spot  on  our  bodies  which  the  flios  had  left  untouched, 
was  immediately  settled  upon  by  these  devils  in  miniature. 
They  pierced  the  very  sheets  that  covered  us,  and  sucked  away 
at  our  blood  without  any  mercy.  Unwilling  to  depart  this  life 
without  one  eff*ort  more  to  save  it,  we  then  dressed  ourselves, 
and  sauntered  into  the  open  air.  We  made  our  way  towards  a 
pile  of  lumber,  near  the  saw-null,  and  without  a  particle  of 
covering,  endeavored  to  obtain  a  little  sleep ;  but  the  insect 
hounds  soon  found  us  out,  and- we  bolted  for  another  place. 
Our  course  now  lay  towards  the  rude  bridge  which  sjtans  the 
Esquemain,  just  above  the  mill.  Our  intentions  at  the  time, 
though  not  uttered  aloud,  I  verily  believe  were  of  a  fearful 
character.  On  reaching  the  bridge,  however,  a  refreshing  breeze 
sprung  up,  and  we  enjoyed  a  brief  respite  from  our  savage 
enemies.  We  now  congratulated  each  other  upon  our  good  for- 
•  tune,  and  had  just  concluded  to  bo  (juite  happy,  when  we  dis- 
covered a  number  of  Indians  on  the  rivor,  spearing  salmon  by 
torch  light,  and,  as  it  was  after  midnight,  and  the  heathens 
wore  spearing  on  our  fishing  ground,  wo  mournfully  concluded 


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SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


that  our  morning's  sport  was  at  an  end.  But  while  in  the  very 
midst  of  this  agreeable  mood  of  mind,  a  lot  of  skylarking  mus- 
quetos,  discovered  our  retreat,  and  we  were  again  besieged. 
We  now  endeavored  to  find  relief  on  board  the  boat  which  had 
brought  us  from  the  Saguenay ;  and  here  it  was  that  we  spent 
the  two  last  hours  of  that  most  miserable  night.  Though  not 
exactly  in  a  fitting  condition  to  throw  the  fly  with  any  degree 
of  comfort,  we  made  an  effort  after  salmon  in  the  morning,  and 
succeeded  in  killing  a  portion  of  the  thirteen  already  mentioned. 
That  we  enjoyed  the  good  breakfast  which  we  had  prepared  for 
our  especial  benefit,  and  that  we  departed  from  Esquemain  as 
soon  as  possible,  are  facts  which  I  consider  self-evident. 

The  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  is 
completely  hemmed  in  with  barriers  of  solid  rock,  and,  when 
the  tide  is  flowing  in  from  one  of  these  points,  first  rate  salmon 
fishing  may  occasionally  be  enjoyed.  I  have  frequently  had 
the  pleasure  of  throwing  the  fly  on  the  point  in  question,  and, 
on  one  occasion,  was  so  carried  away  with  the  sport,  that  I  took 
no  notice  of  the  rising  tide.  It  was  near  the  sunset  hour,  and 
on  preparing  for  my  departure  home,  I  discovered  that  I  was 
completely  surrounded  with  water,  and  that  my  situation  was 
momentarily  becoming  more  dangerous.  The  water  was  bitter 
cold,  and  turbulent,  and  the  channel  which  separated  me  from 
the  main  shore  was  upwards  of  a  hundred  yards  wide.  I  was 
more  than  half  a  mile  from  the  nearest  dwelling,  and  could  not 
see  a  single  sail  on  the  Sagucnay>  or  tho  still  broader  St.  Law- 
rence, excepting  a  solitary  ship,  which  was  ten  leagues  away. 
My  predicament,  I  assure  you,  was  not  to  bo  envied.  I  could 
not  entertain  the  idea  thot  I  should  lose  my  life;  and,  though 
I  felt  myself  to  bo  in  danger,  my  sensations  were  supremely 
ridiculous.  But  something,  I  wos  persuaded,  must  be  done, 
and  that  immediately ;  and  so  I  commenced  throwing  off  my 
clothes  for  a  final  effort  to  save  my  life.  I  had  stripped  off 
everything  but  shirt  and  pantaloons,  and  to  a  flock  of  crows, , 
which  were  cawing  above  my  lead,  I  must  have  presented  an 
interesting  picture.  I  thought  of  the  famous  swimming  adven- 
tures of  Lcunder  and  Lord  Byron,  and  also,  of  the  incouvo- 


SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


285 


niences  of  being  drowned,  (as  Charles  Lamb  did  of  being 
hanged,)  but  just  as  I  was  about  to  make  the  important  plunge, 
an  Indian  in  his  canoe  came  gliding  around  a  neighboring  point, 
and  I  was  rescued,  together  with  one  salmon  and  some  dozen 
pounds  of  trout. 

But  I  have  not  finished  my  story  yet.  On  the  night  follow- 
ing this  incident  I  retired  to  bed  in  rather  a  sober  mood,  for  I 
could  not  banish  the  recollection  of  my  narrow  escape  from  a 
ducking,  if  not  from  a  watery  grave.  The  consequence  was, 
that,  in  my  dreams,  I  underwent  ten  times  as  much  mental  suf- 
fering as  I  had  actually  endured.  I  dreamed,  that,  in  scaling 
the  rocks  which  lead  to  the  point  alluded  to,  I  lost  my  footing, 
and  fell  into  the  water.  While  in  this  condition,  drinking  more 
salt  water  than  I  wanted,  floundering  about,  like  a  sick  porpoise, 
gasping  for  breath,  and  uttering  a  most  doleful  moan,  I  was 
suddenly  awakened,  and  found  my  good  landlord  at  my  side, 
tapping  me  on  the  shoulder,  for  the  purpose  of  summoning  me 
— from  the  back  of  the  nightmare  I  had  been  riding. 

As  I  may  not  have  another  opportunity  of  alluding  to  this 
portion  of  the  Saguenay,  and  the  rocky  point  already  alluded 
to,  I  must  give  my  reader  another,  and  a  remarkable  incident 
connected  with  them.  Some  years  ago,  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  had  in  its  employ,  as  clerk  at  Tadousac,  an  intelligent 
ajid  amiable  young  man,  whoso  name  was  MeCray.  For  some 
unaccountable  reason,  he  became  deranged  ;  and,  on  one  occa- 
sion, a  cold  and  stormy  winter  night,  he  took  it  into  his  head 
to  cross  the  Saguenay  upon  the  floating  ice,  which  was  coming 
down  at  the  time.  When  first  discovered,  he  was  half  way 
across  the  stream,  and  making  frightful  leaps  of  ten  and  fifteen 
feet  from  one  block  of  ice  to  another.  Ills  friends  followed  in 
close  pursuit,  with  a  boat,  as  sooa  us  possible,  but  on  reaching 
the  opposite  shore,  tho  unhappy  man  was  not  to  be  found.  On 
the  day  following,  however,  certain  people,  who  wcro  hunting 
for  him  in  tho  woods,  discovered  him,  perched  in  the  crotch  of 
a  tree,  almost  frozen  to  death,  and  senseless  as  a  clod  of  the 
valley.  He  was  taken  home,  tho  circulation  of  his  blood  re- 
stored, and  he  is  now  an  inmate  of  the  Quebec  Lunatic  Asylum. 


J!'.      W*U%     ... 


Pi.  1 


286 


SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


The  mind  of  this  worthy  man  was  thought  to  be  of  a  high  or- 
der ;  and  it  is  certain  that  he  possessed  an  extensive  knowlodwe 
of  botany  and  geology.  From  remarks  that  escaped  him  sub- 
sequently to  the  wonderful  feat  he  performed,  it  is  supposed 
that,  at  the  time  of  starting  across  the  river,  he  was  thinking 
of  a  particular  book  which  he  wished  to  obtain,  and  had  been 
told  could  be  purchased  at  Quebec,  towards  which  place  (un- 
attainable by  land,)  he  had  set  his  face.  It  is  worthy  of  record 
that  poor  McCray  is  the  only  man  that  ever  crossed  the  deep 
and  angry  Sagucnay  on  the  ice,  as  it  is  never  solidly  frozen ; 
and  it  is  almost  certain  that  the  feat  he  performed  can  never  be 
again  repeated. 

But  to  return  to  my  piscatorial  remarks.     Next  to  the  salmon, 
the  finest  sporting  fish  of  this  region  is  the  trout.     Of  these  I 
have  seen  two  species, — the  salmon  and  the  common  trout.    Of 
the  former,  1  believe  there  is  but  one  variety,  but  that  is  an  ex- 
ceedingly fine  fish  for  bport,  or  the  table,  and  is  found  in  the 
lower   tributan'es  of  tlio   St.   Lawrence,   from  five  to  fifteen 
pounds.     They  aro  taken  chiefly  in  the  salt  water,  and  possess 
a  flavor  which  the  trout  of  our  western  lakes  do  not.     Of  the 
common  trout,  I  have  scon  at  least  six  varieties,  differing,  how- 
ever, only  in  color ;  for  some  are  almost  entirely  white,  others 
brown,  some  blue,  some  green,  some  blac''>  and  others  yellow. 
These  are  taken  everywhere  in  tho  St.  Lawrc.  jo,  and  in  all  its 
tributaries.     Those  of  the  Sagucnay  are  x  o  largest,  most  abun- 
dant, and  of  the  rarest  quality.     Upon  the  whole,  I  am  inclined 
to  set  this  river  down  as  affording  the  finest  trout-fishing  that  I 
have  over  enjoyed,  not  even  excepting  that  which  I  have  ex- 
perienced at  tho  Falls  of  St.  Mary,  in  Michigan.     Almost  every 
bay  or  cove  in  tho  Saguonay  is  crowded  with  trout,  and,  gen- 
erally speaking,  tho  rocks  upon  which  you  have  to  stand  afford 
an  abundance  of  room  to  swing  and  drop  the  fly.     lu  some  of 
tho  coves  alluded  to,  I  have  frequently  taken  a  dozen  two-pound 
♦,rout  during   an  hour   bcforo   sunset.     Trout-fisbing  in   this 
fsgion   possesses  a  charm  w.iich   the   angler  seldom  experi- 
ences in  tho  rivers  and  lakes  of  tho  United  States,  \vhich  con- 
sistti  in  his  unoertainty  as  to  the  character  of  his  prize  before 


SALMON  FISHING  ADVENTURES. 


287 


he  has  landed  him,  for  it  may  be  a  common  or  salmon  trout,  or 
a  regular-built  salmon,  as  these  fisli  all  swim  in  the  same  water. 
It  is  reported  of  a  celebrated  ancler  of  Quebec,  that  lie  once 
spent  a  week  on  the  Esquemain,  and  captured  within  that  time, 
seventy  salmon,  and  upwards  of  a  hundred  trout.  This  is  a 
very  large  story,  but  I  have  faith  enough  to  believe  it  true. 

And  now  for  a  few  remarks  upon  the  fish  of  the  lower  St. 
Lawrence  generally.  Cod  are  taken  to  a  very  great  extent, 
and  constitute  an  important  article  of  commerce.  Herring  and 
mackerel  are  abundant ;  also  the  halibut  and  sardine.  Shad 
are  also  taken,  but  not  in  suflBcicnt  quantities  to  export.  The 
lobster,  flounder  and  oyster  are  also  found  in  this  river,  and, 
with  a  few  unimportant  exceptions,  these  are  the  only  fish  that 
flourish  in  this  portion  of  the  great  river.  The  sea  bass,  the  • 
striped  bass,  the  blue  fish,  and  the  black  fish,  for  which  I  should 
suppose  these  waters  perfectly  adapted,  are  entirely  unknown. 


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SEAL    HUNTING   ON  THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


Before  breakfast  this  morning,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  taking 
fifteen  common  trout,  and  the  remainder  of  the  day  I  devoted  t' 
seal  hunting.  This  animal  is  found  in  great  abundance  in  the 
St.  Lawrence,  and  by  the  Indians  and  a  few  white  people,  ex- 
tensively hunted.  There  are  several  varieties  found  in  these 
waters,  and  the  usual  market  price  for  the  oil  and  skin  is  five 
dollars.  They  vary  in  size  from  four  to  eight  feet,  and  are 
said  to  be  good  eating  Many  people  make  them  a  principal 
article  of  food  ;  and  while  the  Indiana  use  their  skin  for  many 
purposes,  they  also  light  their  cabins  with  the  oil.  In  sailing 
the  river,  they  meet  you  at  every  turn,  and  when  first  I  saw  one, 
I  thought  I  was  looking  upon  a  drowning  man  ;  for  they  only 
raise  their  heads  ou*,  of  the  water,  and  tfcus  sustain  themselves 
with  their  feet,  fias,  pads,  flippers,  or  whatever  you  may  call 
them.  They  live  upon  fish,  and  in  many  of  their  habits,  closely 
resemble  the  otte ;.  Their  paws  have  five  claws,  joined  together 
with  a  thick  skir  ;  they  somewhat  resemble  the  dog,  and  have  a 
bearded  snout  lik  3  a  cat,  large  bright  eyes,  and  long  sharp  tocth. 
They  are  a  noisy  animal,  and  when  a  number  of  them  arc  sun- 
ning themselves  tpon  the  sand,  the  screams  they  utter  arc  dole- 
ful in  the  extreme — somewhat  resembling  the  cry  of  children. 

My  first  seal  expodition  was  performed  in  company  with  two 
professional  hunters.  Wo  started  from  shore  with  a .  yawl  and 
a  oanoe,  and  made  our  course  for  a  certain  spot  in  the  St.  Law- 
rence, where  the  waters  of  the  Saguenay  and  the  flo'od  tide  came 
together,  and  caused  a  terrible  commotion.  The  canot  led  the 
way,  occupied  by  one  man,  who  was  supplied  with  a  harpoon, 


SEAL  HUl  TING  ON  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


289 


and  a  long  line  ;  while  the  other  hunter  and  myself  came  up  in 
the  rear,  for  the  purpose  of  rescuing  the  harpooner  in  case  an 
accident  should  happen,  and  also  for  the  purpose  of  shipping 
the  plunder.  The  seal  seems  to  delight  in  frequenting  the 
deepest  water  and  more  turbulent  whirlpools,  and  the  object  of 
using  the  canoe  is  to  steal  upon  him  in  the  most  successful  man- 
ner. We  had  not  floated  about  the  eddy  more  than  twenty 
minutes,  before  a  large  black  animal  made  his  appearance,  about 
ten  feet  from  the  canoe ;  but  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  di- 
ving, the  hunter  threw  his  harpoon,  and  gave  him  the  line,  to 
which  was  attached  a  buoy.  The  poor  creature  floundered 
about  at  a  great  rate,  dived  as  far  as  he  could  towards  the  bot- 
tom, and  then  leaped  entirely  out  of  the  water ;  but  the  cruel 
spear  would  not  loosen  its  hold.  Finally,  after  making  every 
effort  to  escape,  and  tinging  the  surrounding  water  with  a  crimson 
hue,  he  gasped  for  breath  a  few  times,  and  sunk  to  the  end  of 
the  rope,  quite  dead.  We  then  pulled  him  to  the  side  of  the 
boat,  and  with  a  gafl-hook  secured  him  therein,  and  the  hunt 
was  renewed.  In  this  manner  did  my  companions  capture  no 
less  than  three  seals  before  the  hour  of  noon. 

On  one  occasion,  I  noticed  quite  a  large  number  of  seals  sun- 
ning themselves  upon  a  certain  sandy  point ;  and  as  I  felt  an 
"  itching  palm"  to  obtain,  with  my  own  hands,  the  material  for 
a  winter  cap,  I  spent  the  afternoon  in  the  enjoyment  of  a 
"shooting  frolic,  all  alone."  I  borrowed  a  rifle  of  one  my 
friends,  and,  having  passed  over  to  the  f.andy  point  in  a  canoe, 
I  secreted  myself  in  the  midst  of  some  rocks,  and  awaited  the 
game.  I  had  remained  quiet  but  a  short  time,  when  a  huge 
black  seal  made  its  appearance,  scrambling  up  the  beach,  where 
he  kept  a  sharp  look-out  for  anything  that  might  do  him  harm. 
I  admired  the  apparent  intelligence  of  the  creature,  as  he  drag- 
ged his  clumsy  and  legless  body  along  the  ground,  and  almost 
regretted  that  he  was  doomed  to  die.  True  to  a  whim  of  the 
moment  however,  I  finally  concluded  to  leave  him  unmolested 
for  the  preStent,  hoping  that  he  would  soon  be  accompanied  by 
one  of  his  fellow-seals,  and  that  I  should  have  a  chance  of  kill- 
ing a  pair.  I  was  not  disappointed,  and  you  will  therefore 
19 


l#»K^ 


M 


S^'.-^i'u&i 


in;^m 


;!** 


290 


S'SAL  HUNTING  ON  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


please  consider  me  in  full  view  of  one  of  the  finest  marks  imag- 
inable, three  fine  seals,  and  in  the  attitude  of  firing.  Crack 
went  the  rifle,  but  my  shot  had  only  the  effect  of  temporarily 
rousing  the  animals,  and  I  proceeded  to  reload  my  gun,  won- 
dering at  the  cause  of  my  missing,  and  feeling  somewhat  dissa- 
tisfied with  matters  and  things  in  general.  Again  was  it  my 
privilege  to  fire,  and  I  saw  a  stick  fly  into  the  air  about  thirty 
feet  on  the  left  of  my  game.  The  animals  were,  of  course,  not 
at  all  injured,  bu.t  just  enough  frightened  to  turn  their  faces  to- 
wards the  water,  into  which  they  shortly  plunged,  and  disap- 
peared. I  returned  to  my  lodgings,  honestly  told  my  storj, 
and  was  laughpd  at  for  my  pains  and  bad  luck.  It  so  happened, 
however,  that  the  owner  of  the  gun  imagined  that  something 
might  be  the  matter  with  the  thing,  and,  on  examination,  found 
that  one  of  the  sights  had  been  accidently  knocked  from  its 
original  position,  which  circumstance  had  been  the  "  cause  of 
my  anguish ;"  and,  though  it  restored  to  me  my  gcod  name  as 
a  marksman,  it  afforded  mc  but  little  satisfaction. 

But,  that  my  paper  about  seals  may  be  worth  sealing,  I  will 
give  you  the  history  of  an  incident  which  illustrates  the  sagacity 
of  an  Indian  in  killing  his  game.  A  Mic-mac  hunter,  with  his 
family,  had  reached  the  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  hungry, 
and  short  of  ammunition.  On  a  large  sand-bank  which  lay 
before  him,  at  a  time  when  the  tide  was  low,  he  discovered  an 
immense  number  of  seals.  He  waited  for  the  tide  to  flow,  and 
again  to  ebb,  and  as  soon  as  the  sand  appeared  above  the  water, 
he  hastened  to  the  dry  point  in  his  canoe,  carrying  only  a 
hatchet  as  a  weapon.  On  this  spot  he  immediately  dug  a  hole, 
into  which  he  crept,  and  covered  himself  with  a  blanket.  Uo 
then  commenced  uttering  a  cry  in  imitation  of  the  seal,  and  in 
a  short  time  had  collected  about  him  a  very  largo  number  of 
those  animals.  He  waited  patiently  for  the  tide  to  retire  so  far 
that  the  animals  would  have  to  travel  at  least  a  milo  by  land  ■ 
before  reaching  the  water ;  and,  when  the  wished  for  moment 
arrived,  he  suddenly  fell  upon  the  affrighted  multitude,  and  with 
his  tomahawk,  succeeded  in  slaughtering  upwards  of  oifB  hun- 
dred.    To  many,  this  may  appear  to  be  an  improbable  story, 


SEAL  HUNTINC 


THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


£91 


but  when  it  is  remembered  that  this  amphibious  animal  is  an 
exceedingly  slow  land  traveller,  it  will  be  readily  believed.  The 
manner  in  which  our  hunter  managed  to  save  his  game,  was  to 
tie  them  together  with  bark,  and  when  the  tide  rose,  tow  them 
to  the  main  shore. 

Since  I  have  brought  my  read;r  upon  the  waters  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  I  will  not  permit  him  to  go  ashore  until  I  have  given 
him  an  account  of  another  inhabitant  of  the  deep  which  is  found 
in  very  great  abundance,  not  only  in  this  river,  but  also  in  the 
Saguenay.  I  allude  to  the  white  porpoise.  The  shape  of  this 
creature  is  sim'lar  to  that  of  the  whale,  though  of  a  pure  white 
color,  and  usually  about  fifteen  feet  in  length.  They  are  ex- 
ceedingly fat,  and  yield  an  oil  of  the  best  quality,  while  the  skin 
is  capable  of  being  turned  into  durable  leather.  They  are 
extensively  used  as  an  article  of  food ;  the  fins  and  tail,  when 
pickled,  are  considered  a  delicacy;  and  their  value  is  about 
twenty-five  dollars  a-piece.  They  are  far  from  being  a  shy 
fish ;  and,  when  sailing  about  our  vessel  in  large  numbers,  as  is 
often  the  case,  they  present  a  beautiful  and  unique  appearance. 
For  taking  this  fish,  the  people  of  this  region  have  two  methods. 
The  first  is  to  use  a  boat  with  a  white  bottom,  behind  which  the 
fisherman  tows  a  small  wooden  porpoise,  which  is  painted  a  dark 
slate  color,  in  imitation  of  the  youn^r  of  the  species.  With 
these  lures  the  porpoise  is  often  brought  into  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  harpoon,  which  is  thrown  here  with  fatal  preci- 
sion. In  this  manner  an  expert  man  will  often  take  three  or 
four  fine  prizes  in  a  day.  Another  mode  for  taking  these 
creatures  is  by  fencing  them  in.  It  appears  that  it  is  custom- 
ary for  this  fish  to  wander  over  the  sand  bars,  at  high  water, 
for  the  purpose  of  feeding.  Profiting  by  this  knowledge,  the 
fishermen  enclose  one  of  the  sandy  reefs  with  poles  set  about 
fifty  feet  apart,  and  sometimes  covering  a  square  mile.  They 
ieave  an  appropriate  opening  for  the  porpoises,  which  are  sure 
to  enter  at  high  water,  and,  owing  to  their  timidity,  they  are 
kept  confined  by  the  slender  barrier  until  the  tide  ebbs,  when 
they  -iTc  destroyed  in  great  numbers  with  very  little  trouble. 
It  is  reported  that  a  party  of  fishermen,  some  ninety  miles  above 


^  M'-4 


W^^'*' 


- #^# 


'trf 

w 

m% 

292 


SEAL  HUNTINa  ON  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE. 


the  Sagnenay,  once  took  on?  hundred  and  forty  porpoises  at 
one  tide;  and  it  is  also  asserted  that  in  dividing  the  spoil  the 
fishermen  had  a  very  bitter  quarrel,  since  which  time,  as  the 
story  goes,  not  a  single  porpoise  has  ever  been  taken  on  the 
shoal  in  question. 


IV         '.''I 


I  - 


\U  '■»';'; 


ii.  .•'!.;     ■ '   i^T'r'  7   ''11  ;' 


'it'  ii.;<.  Hl'v^  •  ,-i-.  '  !>  '    I-'   ■''■■     '*  ■'  '■■    ivi»"Vl.*  -;>     ■'-^'Jf 


i>     \    i 


i      \:ii\i:.A    Ma,/-,, J, 

^;  ;^i ;<^:    '■■(■-vf.  ■     •wt,   ,.-r.  V.  '  <-■•' 

.,  -  I    !■'■■  '''i    v'f '■-',;    ■  ■'    '•     ••■■''  •■,;-iiV<   ^ »■    ■■ 
■  ■■'      'I'li     '<i     '■'!■■■;  '■  -  •■>':-,  tri     y    (v,   ■■".. 

'■'    !       ,   .     ■','        ;        ■ '>    •■'  iMii-i-<ij.    ''Oi      U' 

r...      ^ij-;^   '      i\    ;?>{':     ..'»!<''':   All?    >■'   /il     )\    ,(j«:'|.   :U  .'.•^\^ 


?»..•  ^)J'« 


.^j  ^. 


l;l4'<^>^r-Hj^ 


(">.'•.  .»'.'<:w 


THE  ESQUIMAUX  INDIANS  OF  LABRADOR. 


. ', ,'  •■ 


(M: 


'/■hi;!* 


The  vast  region  of  country  lying  on  the  north  shore  of  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  extending  to  the  eastward  of  the 
Saguenay  as  far  as  Newfoundland,  is  generally  known  under 
the  name  of  Labrador.  It  is  an  exceedingly  wild  and  desolate 
region,  and,  excepting  an  occasional  fishing  hamlet  or  a  mis- 
sionary station  belonging  to  the  worthy  Moravians,  its  only 
inhabitants  are  Indians.  Of  these  the  more  famous  tribes  are 
the  Red  Indians,  (now  almost  extinct,)  the  Hunting  Indians, 
the  Mic-Macs,  and  the  Esquimaux.  The  latter  nation  is  by  far 
the  most  numerous,  and  it  is  said  that  their  sway  even  extends 
to  the  coasts  of  Hudson's  Bay.  They  are,  at  the  same  time, 
the  wildest  and  most  rude  inhabitants  of  this  wilderness,  and, 
in  appearance,  as  well  as  manners  and  customs,  closely  resemble 
the  inhabitants  of  Greenland. 

During  one  of  my  nautical  expeditions  down  the  St.  Law- 
rence, I  chanced  to  be  wind-bound  for  a  couple  of  days  at  the 
mouth  of  the  nameless  river  on  the  north  shore,  where  I  found 
a  small  encampment  of  Esquimaux  Indians.  The  principal 
man  of  the  party  was  exceedingly  aged,  and  the  only  one  who 
could  convey  his  thoughts  in  any  other  language  than  his  own. 
He  had  mingled  much  with  the  French  fur  traders  of  the  north, 
and  the  French  fishermen  of  the  east,  and  possessed  a  smatter- 
ing of  their  tongue.  Seated  by  the  side  of  this  good  old  man, 
in  his  lodge  with  a  moose  skin  for  a  seat,  a  pack  of  miscellane- 
ous furs  to  lean  against,  and  a  rude  aeal-oil  torch  suspended 
over  my  head,  I  spent  many  hours  of  one  long-to-be-remembered 
night  in  questioning  him  about  his  people.     The  substance  of 


s»^^ 


.-•'•f 


m 


294 


THE  ESQUIMAUX  INDIANS  OF  LABRADOR. 


the  information  I  then  collected,  it  is  now  my  purpose  to  record ; 
but  it  should  be  remembered  that  I  speak  of  the  nation  at  large, 
and  not  of  any  particular  tribe. 

According  to  my  informant,  the  extent  of  the  Esquimaux 
nation  is  unknown,  for  they  consider  themselves  as  numerous  as 
the  waves  of  the  sea.  Much  has  been  done  to  give  them  an 
education,  and,  though  missionaries  of  the  cross  have  dwelt 
among  them  for  about  a  century,  yet  the  majority  of  this 
people  are,  at  the  present  time,  in  heathen  darkness.  The 
men  are  chiefly  employed  in  hunting  and  fishing,  and  the  do- 
mestic labor  is  all  performed  by  the  women.  Their  clothes 
are  made  in  the  rudest  manner  imaginable,  and  generally  of 
the  coarser  skins  which  they  secure  in  hunting.  They  believe 
in  a  Supreme  Being,  who  has  a  dwelling-place  in  the  earth, 
the  air,  and  the  ocean,  who  is  both  good  and  evil ;  and  they  also 
believe  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  which  they  describe  as 
similar  to  air,  which  they  cannot  feel.  Their  principal  men  are 
magicians  and  conjurors,  distinguished,  as  I  infer  from  good 
reason,  for  their  profligacy.  Whenever  a  man  is  sick,  they  at- 
tribute the  cause  to  the  alleged  fact  that  his  soul  has  departed 
from  his  body,  and  he  is  looked  upon  with  contempt  and  pity. 
The  first  man  who  came  into  the  world  sprang  from  the  bosom 
of  a  beautiful  valley ;  in  this  valley  he  spent  his  infancy  and 
childhood,  feeding  upon  berries ;  and  having,  on  a  certain  occa- 
sion, picked  up  a  flower  which  drooped  over  one  of  his  accus- 
tomed paths,  it  immediately  became  changed  into  a  girl  with 
flowing  hair,  who  became  his  playmate,  and  afiorwards  his 
wife,  and  was  the  mother  of  all  living.  They  believe  in  a 
heaven  and  a  hell,  and  consider  that  the  road  to  the  former  ia 
rugged  and  rocky,  and  that  to  the  latter,  level,  and  covered  with 
grass.  Their  ideas  of  astronomy  are  peculiar,  for  they  con- 
sider the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  as  so  many  of  their  ancestors, 
who  have,  for  a  great  variety  of  reasons,  been  lifted  to  the 
skies,  and  become  celestial  bodies.  In  accounting  for  the  two 
former,  they  relate  that  there  was  once  a  superb  festival  given 
by  the  Esquimaux,  in  a  glorious  snow-palace  of  the  north, 
where  were  assembled  all  the  young  men  and  maidens  of  the 


THE  ESQUIMAUX  INDIANS  OF  LABRADOR. 


295 


land.  Among  them  was  a  remarkably  brave  youth,  who  was 
in  love  with  an  exceedingly  beautiful  girl.  She,  however,  did 
not  reciprocate  this  attachment,  and  endeavored,  by  all  the 
means  in  her  power,  to  escape  from  his  caresses.  To  accom- 
plish this  end,  she  called  upon  the  Great  Spirit  to  give  her  a 
pair  of  wings ;  and,  having  received  them,  she  flew  into  the 
air,  and  became  the  moon.  The  youth  also  endeavored  to  ob- 
tain a  pair  of  wings,  and,  after  many  months,  finally  succeeded ; 
and,  on  ascending  to  the  sky,  he  became  the  sun.  The  moon, 
they  say,  has  a  dwelling-place  in  the  west,  and  the  sun  another 
in  the  far  east.  They  account  for  thunder  and  lightning  by 
giving  the  story  of  two  women  who  lived  together  in  a  wigwam, 
and,  on  one  occasion,  had  a  most  furious  battle.  During  the 
affray,  the  cabin  tumbled  in  upon  them,  causing  a  tremendous 
noise,  while  the  women  were  so  angry  that  their  eyes  flashed 
fire.  Rain,  they  say,  comes  from  a  river  in  the  skies,  which, 
from  the  great  number  of  people  who  sometimes  ^athe  in  it, 
overflows  its  banks,  and  thus  comes  to  the  earth  in  showerc. 

When  one  of  their  friends  has  departed  this  life,  they  take 
all  his  property  and  scatter  it  upon  the  ground,  outside  of  his 
cabin,  to  be  purified  by  the  air  ;  but  in  the  evening,  they  col- 
lect it  together  again,  and  bury  it  by  the  side  of  his  grave. 
They  think  it -wrong  for  the  men  to  mourn  for  their  friends, 
and  consider  themselves  defiled  if  they  happen  to  touch  the 
body  of  the  deceased,  and  the  individual  who  usually  performs 
the  ofiice'  of  undertaker,  is  considered  unclean  for  many  days 
after  fulfilling  his  duty.  The  women  do  all  the  wailing  and 
weeping,  and  during  their  mourning  season,  which  corresponds 
with  the  fame  of  ^he  deceased,  they  abstain  from  food,  wear 
their  hair  in  great  disorder,  and  refrain  from  every  ablution. 
When  a  friendless  man  dies,  his  body  is  left  upon  the  hills  to 
decay,  as  if  he  had  been  a  beast.  When  their  children  die, 
they  bury  the  body  of  a  dead  dog  in  the  same  grave,  that  the 
child  may  have  a  guide  in  his  pathway  to  an  unknown  land,  to 
which  they  suppose  all  children  go. 

Polygamy,  as  such,  among  the  Esquimaux,  is  practised  only 
to  a  limited  extent ;  but  married  men  and  women  are  not  over- 


'^'^^^ 


296 


THE  ESQUIMAUX  INDIANS  OF  LABRADOR. 


'"'^ih-iM.^i 


:iiim 


•y 


iT-r 


f  ^IMOBl—Dn.' ^ 


S2Sli|w 


s^^m-^ 


scrupulous  in  their  love  affairs.  Unmarried  women,  however, 
observe  the  rules  of  modesty  with  peculiar  care,  and  the  maiden 
who  suffers  herself  to  be  betrayed,  is  looked  upon  with  infamy. 
When  a  young  man  wishes  to  marry,  he  first  settles  the  matter 
with  his  intended,  and  then,  having  asked  and  obtained  her 
father's  permission,  he  sends  two  old  women  to  bring  the  lady 
to  his  lodge,  and  they  are  considered  one.  The  Esquimaux 
mother  is  fond  of  her  children,  and  never  chastises  them  for 
any  offence.  Children  are  taught  to  be  dutiful  to  their  pa- 
rents, and  until  they  marry  they  always  continue  under  the 
patei'nal  roof.  >.u)   r  -   v   .!  -  '    -    "'  <''^  ■^■fI    , 

The  amusements  of  the  Esquimaux  do  not  differ,  materially, 
from  those  of  the  Indian  tribes  generally.  The  men  are  fond 
of  dancing,  playing  ball,  and  a  species  of  dice  game,  while  the 
women  know  of  no  recreation  but  that  of  dancing  and  singing. 

And  thus  endeth  my  mite  of  information  respecting  one  of 
the  most  extensive  aboriginal  nations  of  the  far  north.     <  ;<•.'.' 


rV:iyff,,fi  ■   I'l 


■v      ,-A 


■>'/i     ','/u     !;.■-      , 


i  ;•• 


ll\ 


'I 


'ily-  1'  :(    M' V.I    fiij'i..  /    \.   i' 
,,     T'    I    il  1     'i.-oy    )■     V  .1.1      (. 

•  t     '  ••  ■' ,!  ft"  -r     I 

V  :■•.       .■'  /•  '    i'    '■  H"  1     ''  'I'    .'  ■■•' 

I  >  f"/»  I  * 

1   •     ii'li'.!     il-.M"!  .'(  '     I,,'.-    '       i' 


t)i'  I  ,!  'Ml    ^'1  '•■'l.jf'C  "li'l 


i-  ■,  'I 


'..!■ 


t. 


t'lfrr  ■'^rf^ff"'^"^ 


.'  r.,l    K.-.    '  )t'-i7l  /' 


.!•. 


ii^t-^ 


THE   HABJTANS   OF  CANADA. 


■  <'!'■'' 


Since  dating  my  last  chapter  from  the  Saguenay,  I  have 
completed  my  pilgrimage  through  Lower  Canada  ;  but  before 
leaving  the  Province,  I  will  give  you  the  result  of  my  observa- 
tions respecting  some  of  its  people.  These  are  divided  into 
three  classes — the  descendants  of  the  French  colonists,  com- 
monly called  "  Habitans,"  the  British  settlers,  and  the  Indian 
tribes.  The  "  Habitans,"  of  whom  I  am  now  to  speak,  are  the 
most  numerous,  and  so  peculiar  in  their  appearance  and  man- 
ners, as  to  attract  the  particular  attention  of  travellers.  The 
men  are  usually  tall  and  slender,  oi'  sinewy  build,  and  with  a 
dark-brown  complexion ;  the  girls  are  black-eyed,  and  disposed 
to  be  beautiful,  while  the  women  are  always  dumpy,  but  good- 
looking.  Their  dress  is  similar  to  that  of  tl  French  peasantry ; 
the  men  wear  the  old-fashioned  ca^ot^  on  their  heads  every  va- 
riety of  fantastic  caps  and  hats,  and,  on  their  feet,  moccasins 
made  of  cow-hide  ;  the  women  wear  jackets  or  mantelets,  which 
are  made  of  bright  colors,  and,  on  their  heads,  either  a  cap  or 
straw  hat,  made  in  the  gipsy-fashion.  Occasionally,  they  makfr 
an  effort  to  imitate  the  English  in  their  dress,  and,  at  sucl^ 
times,  invariably  appear  ridiculous.  As  a  class  they  are  de- 
voted, principally,  to  agriculture ;  but  as  their  opportunities 
for  obtaining  instruction  are  exceedingly  limited,  their  know- 
ledge of  the  art  of  husbandry  is  precisely  what  it  was  one  hun- 
dred years  ago.  They  seem  to  be  entirely  destitute  of  enter- 
prise, and  tread  in  the  beaten  steps  of  their  fathers.  They 
who  live  in  the  vicinity  of  Montreal  and  Quebec,  generally  sup* 
l)ly  those  markets  with  vegetables ;  bat  those  who  reside  in  the 


/f 


■•s 


(  .tl 


[If  • 

J- 

ff,    I  If  I. 


v-tes 


m 


■r      'n' 


M\ 


298 


THE  HABITANS  OF  CANADA. 


"%;' 


^}s^.;  ■ 


more  obscure  parts,  seem  to  be  quite  satisfied  if  they  can  only 
manage  to  raise  enough  off  their  farms  for  the  purpose  of  car- 
rying them  through  the  year.     They  are  partial  to  rye  bread, 
and  never  conbider  it  in  a  cook'.ng  condition  until  it  has  been 
soured  by  age ;  and  their  standard  dish,  which  they  make  use 
of  on  all  occasions,  is  a  plain  pea  soup.     The  consequence  is, 
the  pea  is  extensively  cultivated.     You  seldom  find  a  farmer 
who  Is  so  poor  as  not  to  be  able  to  sell  from  five  to  fifty  bushels 
of  wheat,  and  this  article  he  appropriates  to  the  same  use  that 
most  people  do  their  money.     Their  plough  is  distinguished 
for  its  rudeness,  and  their  farming  implements,  generally, 
would  not  be  creditable  even  to  a  barbarous  people.     If  an  in- 
dividual happens  to  have  a  stony  field,  the  idea  docs  not,  enter 
his  head  that  he  might  build  a  fence  with  those  very  stones,  and 
the  conseqaence  is,  that  he  piles  tliem  in  one  immensy  heap,  in 
the  centre  of  the  field,  and  draws  his  rails  a  distanct,  perhaps, 
of  two  miles.     But  with  all  their  ignorance  of  agriculture,  the 
the  inhabitants  are  sufiiciently  careful  to  make  their  little  farms 
yield  them  all  the  necessaries  they  require,  particularly  their 
clothing  and  shoes,  their  candles,  soap,  and  sugar.     There  are 
but  few  professional  mechanics  among  them,  and  the  dwelling 
of  the  peasant  is  almost  invariably  the  production  of  his  own 
labor.     Their  houses  are  distinguished  for   pictorial  beauty, 
always  one  story  high,  and,  generally,  neatly  white-washed. 
Their  cattle  are  small,  and,  owing  to  their  neglect  in  feeding 
and  protecting  them,  are  exceedingly  poor.     Their  horses  arc 
nothing  but  ponies,  but  distinguished  for  their  toughness.   The 
Ilabitans  are  partial  to  the  luxury  of  riding,  and  their  com- 
mon vehicle  is  a  rough  two-wheeled  cart,  and,  occasionally,  a 
calash. 

The  establishment  Avhich  I  employed  for  traveling  in  the  set- 
tled parts  of  Canada,  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  class.  The 
cost  of  the  horse  (four  feet  and  a  half  high,)  was  twenty  dollars, 
and  tho  cart  (made  entirely  of  wood,)  was  four  dollars.  My 
coachman  was  a  Habitan,  and,  in  driving  over  a  hilly  road,  on 
a  certain  day,  I  had  a  fine  opportunity  for  studying  tho  con- 
flicting traits  of  character  which  distinguish  the  race.     Whcne- 


THE  HABITANS  OF  CANADA. 


299 


ver  he  wanted  his  horse  to  go  fast,  he  pulled  the  reins  with  all 
his  might,  and  continued  to  utter  a  succession  of  horrible  yells. 
He  invariably  ran  his  animal  up  the  hill,  and  deliberately 
walked  Mm  down.  When  angry  at  his  unoflFending  beast,  he 
showered  upon  his  head  a  variety  of  oaths,  >vhich  might  be 
translated  as  follows:  infernal  hog,  black  toad,  and  hellish  dog ; 
and  yet  when  the  animal  was  about  to  drop  to  the  ground  from 
fatigue  and  heat,  he  would  caress  him,  and  do  everything  in  his 
power  to  restore  the  animal,  and  easv^  his  own  conscience.  I 
first  employed  this  man  to  bring  me  to  this  place,  and  said  no- 
thing about  continuing  my  journey.  On  ascertaining,  however, 
that  I  was  bound  further  down  the  St.  Lawrence, he  volunteered 
his  services,  and  I  employed  him,  although  he  had  informed  bis 
V  ;■'  that  he  would  positively  return  on  the  night  of  the  day  he 
If  '.  ,  I  retained  him  in  my  employ  for  two  days,  and  was 
.  '.  ..iai'ly  struck  with  the  anxiety  he  manifested  concerning 
the  disappointment  of  his  wife.  Ho  alluded  to  the  impropriety 
c^his  conduct  at  least  a  dozen  times,  and  usually  added,  "But 
you  give  me  plenty  money  (it  was  only  six  dollai's  for  taking 
me  fovty  miles,)  and  I  will  buy  %omething  pretty  for  my  wife, 
which  will  make  her  very  glad — I  guess  she  won't  be  sorry." 
I  asked  him  what  it  was  that  he  intended  to  purchase,  and  his 
answer  was,  "some  ribbon,  a  pair  of  scissors,  with  some  needles, 
and  a  calico  dress."  Who  can  deny  that  it  is  pleasant  to  study 
the  sunshine  of  the  human  heart  "by  which  we  live?" 

The  Ilabltans  profess  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  with  much 
zeal.  Among  them,  I  believe,  may  be  found  many  worthy 
Christians ;  but  they  manifest  their  religious  devotions  in  many 
peculiar  ways.  They  are  fond  of  social  intercourse,  and  spend 
a  goodly  portion  of  their  time  in  visiting  each  other.  They 
reluctantly  establish  themselves  beyond  the  sound  of  a  chapel 
boll,  and  I  positively  believe  that  they  spend  more  than  half  of 
their  time  in  performing  mass  and  horse-racing.  The  Sabbath 
is  their  great  holiday,  and  always  decidedly  the  noisiest  day  in 
the  week.  Their  general  deportment,  however,  is  inoffensive, 
and  often  highly  praiseworthy.  They  are  aoidom  guilty  of 
committing  atrocious  crimes,  and  do  not  often  engage  in  the 


800 


THE  HABITANS  OF  CANADA. 


personal  conflicts  which  are  so  prevalent  in  the  United  States. 
They  treat  all  men  with  kindness,  and  in  their  language  and 
manners,  are  remarkably  polite.  The  little  girl,  playing  with 
her  doll  in  her  father's  door,  would  think  her  conduct  highly 
improper  should  she  omit  to  drop  you  a  courtesy  as  you  passed 
along ,  and  even  the  rude  boy,  when  playing  ball,  or  driving 
his  team,  invariably  takes  off  his  hat  to  salute  the  traveler. 

The  Habitans  are  par'ticularly  fond  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
and  their  settlements  extend  from  Montreal,  about  two  hun- 
dred miles  a  long  the  river  on  the  north  shore,  and  perhaps  three 
hundred  and  fifty  on  the  southern  shore.  Their  principal  roads 
run  parallel  with  the  river ;  are  about  hali  a  mile  apart,  and, 
generally,  completely  lined  with  rural  dwellings. 

The  political  opinions  of  the  Habitans  are  extremely  liberal, 
aud  not  much  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  Canadian  insti- 
tutions. They  hate  England  by  nature,  and  the  advice  of  their 
priesthood,  and  scruple  not  to  declare  themselves  actually  in 
love  with  v/hat  they  call  the  American  Government.  They 
complain  that  Englishmen  treat  them  as  if  they  were  slaves, 
while  the  people  of  the  United  States  always  hail  ibem  as  bro- 
thers. They  are  an  unlettered  race,  but  believe  that  their  con- 
dition would  be  much  happier  were  they  the  subjects  of  a 
Prasident,  instead  of  a  Queen.  That  is  a  matter  I  consider 
questionable.     ..      .  ,    ,  ,  ,.  -     .      .,v.       .. 

•«   1'       •,>»-■•;  .'"Ml     i   .f  (f.    f'      .1-    s..l;,v;i.         ti;'<Llt;ti   '■■   U 

'f!u:    T    *    Mf.f     ,,;     -  ■.,.        (,- I  ...-;{  !•  ..('.:     V  I' •"   i'       ■'•!,. 

''!'!*   H" '■?:'    •'     '    '■  •\'\    ;  V'*-'    L'v'l/'-'     "'  '.'I'   ^'  II'"    ',!'.,(  ,  »":t|.')i.'- r)[lv' 
■fr.  .'.i'- n-i  If  .':•'•!  'i'.  -.'  R  '.i;  v,\i\T  nr  i/>fi).     ,    '•fi''-^'-  ',:iUi*^^^%l 
.'.<i!i>'    •(''')!:'    v>  jr '!»;fT'       '    "  !)»"     i-    "*    L.'    )7t  ■ 
V  "li- ,i»M'' >*i  "i* '    U'''  ^^  "    ■»;',' I'M?' I 'a*     <!.<■•»' 
•-:■■■•  ,,(i;ai  i  n-)'.i'  \[:<i'j   *.r;'  '■    '■■'■'  ••!   ^' 

(        »,!f^vv.(  .)-.'(i(i  i'.i.i   '••••lift  i.iKt)iii/H  ■  Ji'jif' 


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.jk  rt  ,.'i<  ■■7<>v  1'    "-    '■::■,    «i-     ;'    'i''    v.t  ■')'.*''; '•:*^''-' 


LAKE   TIMISCOUTA. 


The  traveler  who  would  go  from  Quebec  to  Halifax  by  the 
recently  established  government  route,  will  have  to  take  a 
ateamer  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  down  the  great 
river,  and  cross  the  Grand  Portage  road,  which  commences  at 
the  river  Du  Loup,  and  extends  to  Lake  Timiscouta^  a  distance 
of  thirty-six  miles. 

With  the  village  of  Du  Loup,  I  was  well  pleased.   It  contains 
about  twelve  hundred  inhabitants,  and  a  more  general  mixture 
of  English,  Scotch,  and  French  than  is  usually  found  in  the 
smaller  towns  of  Canada.     The  place  contains  an  Episcopal 
church,  which  .must  be  looked  upon  as  a  curiosity  in  this  Ro- 
man Catholic  country,  for  it  is  the  only  one,  I  believe,  found 
eastward  of  Quebec.     The  situation  of  the  village  is  romantic. 
It  commands  an  extensive  prospect  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  which 
's  here  upwards  of  twenty  milss  wide,  and  bounded,  on  the  op- 
posite '«ide,  by  a  multitude  of  rugged  mountains.     The  river  is 
studded  with  islands ;  and  ships  are  constantly  passing  hither 
and  thither  over  the  broad  expanse ;  and  when,  from  their 
great  distance,  all  these  objects  are  confcantly  enveloped  in  a 
gauise-like  atmosphere,  there  is  a  magic  influence  in  the  scenery. 
The  principal  local  attraction  is  a  water-fall,  about  a  mile  in 
the  rear  of  the  village.     At  this  point  the  waters  of  the  rapid 
and  beautiful  Du  Loup  dance  joyously  over  a  rocky  bed,  until 
they  reach  a  picturesque  precipice  of  perhaps  eighty  or  a  hun- 
dred feet,  over  which  they  dash  in  a  sLeet  of  foam,  and,  after 
forming  an  extensive  and  shadowy  pool,  glide  onward,  through 
u  pleasant  meadow,  until  they  mingle  with  the  waters  of  the 


K 


'I 


302 


LAKE  TIMISCOUIA. 


J.. 


!:?■! 


St.  Lawrence.  But,  as  I  intend  t*-  take  you  over  the  Grand 
Portage,  it  is  time  that  we  should  he  oflf.  The  first  ten  miles 
of  this  road  are  dotted  with  the  box-looking  houses  of  the  Cana- 
dian peasantry ;  but  the  rest  of  the  route  leads  you  up  moun- 
tains and  down  valleys  as  wild  and  desolate  as  when  first  croa- 
ted.  The  principal  trees  of  the  forest  are  pine,  spruce  and 
hemlock,  and  the  foundation  of  the  country  seems  to  be  granite. 
This  region  is  watered  by  many  sparkling  streams,  which  con- 
tain trout  in  great  abundance ;  and  the  summer  climate  is  so 
cold  that  ice  is  frequently  formed  in  the  month  of  July.  The 
only  curiosity  on  the  road  is  of  a  geological  character,  and 
struck  me  as  something  remarkable.  Crossing  the  road,  and 
running  in  a  northerly  direction,  and  extending  to  the  width  of 
about  two  miles,  is  a  singular  bed  of  granite  boulders.  The 
rocks  are  of  every  size  and  form,  and  while,  from  a  portion  of 
them,  rises  a  scanty  vegetation,  other  portions  are  destitute  of 
even  the  common  moss.  In  looking  upon  this  region,  the  idea 
struck  me  that  I  was  passing  through  the  bed  of  Avhat  once  was 
a  mighty  river,  but  whose  fountains  have  become  forever  dry. 
This  is  only  one,  however,  of  the  unnumbered  wonders  of  the 
world  which  are  constantly  appearing  to  puzzle  the  philosophy 
of  man.  In  passing  over  the  Grand  Portage,  the  traveler  has 
to  resort  to  a  conveyance  which  presents  a  striking  contrast 
with  the  usual  national  works  of  her  ladyship  the  Queen.  It 
is  the  same  establishment  which  conveys  the  Royal  Mail  from 
Quebec  to  Halifax,  and  consists  of  a  common  Canadian  cart,  a 
miserable  Canadian  pony,  and  a  yet  more  miserable  Canadian 
driver.  Such  is  the  way  they  order  things  in  Canada,  which, 
I  fancy,  is  not  exactly  the  way  they  do  in  France.  The  Grand 
Portage  road  itself  is  all  that  one  could  desire,  and  as  there  is 
a  good  deal  of  summer  and  winter  traveling  upon  it,  it  is  sur- 
prising that  the  Government  cannot  afibrd  a  more  comfortable 
conveyance.  But  this  recently  "Disputed  Territory,"  owing 
to  nobody's  fault  but  the  actual  settlers,  seems  ^o  be  destitute 
of  we. y thing  desirable,  and  I  know  not  but  we  ou^jui  to  lejoice 
tha  Lord  Ashburton  concluded  the  late  treaty  in  the  manner 
he^ti'i. 


m^. 


aiK— . 


LAKE  IIMISCOUTA. 


803 


The  eastern  termination  of  the  Grand  Portage  road  is  at  Lake 
Timiscouta,  where  is  located  a  pleasant  hamlet  of  Canadians, 
and  a  picketed  fort,  which  is  now  abandoned.  The  views  from 
this  spot  are  unique  j'ud  exceedingly  beautiful,  particularly  a 
western  view  of  the  lake,  when  glowing  beneath  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun.  The  Indian  word  Timiscouta  signifies  the  winding 
water,  and  accurately  descrbes  the  lake,  which  has  a  serpen- 
tine course,  is  twenty-four  miles  long,  and  from  two  to  three 
wide.  Excepting  the  cluster  of  houses  already  mentioned,  there 
is  not  a  single  cabin  on  the  whole  lake,  and  the  surrounding 
mountains,  ivhich  u,re  perhaps  a  thousand  feet  high,  are  the 
home  of  solituae  and  silence.  The  only  vessels  that  navigate 
the  Lake  are  Indian  canoes,  paddled  by  Canadians.  Not  only 
does  the  isolated  settlers  depend  upon  them  for  the  transporta- 
tion of  provisions,  but  even  the  English  nobleman,  who  travel- 
ling in  this  region,  finds  it  necessary  to  sit  like  a  tailor  in  their 
straw-covered  bottoms.  T^^e  winters  here  are  very  severe,  snow 
oftentimes  covering  ihe  earth  to  the  depth  of  six  foet  for  four 
months  in  the  year. 

The  only  outlet  to  Lake  Timiscouta  is  the  Mauawaska  River, 
which  is  but  a  contraction  of  the  same  nater,  but  reduced  to 
the  width  of  a  stone's  throw,  and  leading  to  the  St.  John's,  a 
distance  of  some  forty  miles.  The  meaning  of  Madawaska,  as 
I  am  informed,  \»  never  frozen,  and  the  river  obtained  this  name 
from  the  fact  that  certain  portions,  on  account  of  the  current, 
are  never  Ice-bound.  The  scenery  of  the  river  is  precisely 
similar  to  that  of  its  parent  lake,  only  that  it  is  a  little  culti- 
vated. The  waters  of  both  are  clear,  but  not  very  deep  or  cold. 
They  abound  in  fish,  of  which  the  common  trout,  the  perch,  and 
tulady,  are  the  more  valuable  varieties. 

The  manner  in  which  I  sailed  through  Timiscouta  and  Mada- 
waska, was  exceedingly  pleasant,  if  not  pecurar  and  ridiculous. 
My  canoe  was  manned  by  a  couple  of  barbaro\is  Canadians,  and 
while  they  occupied  the  extreme  stern  and  bow,  I  was  allowed 
the  "  largest  liberty"  in  the  body  thereof.  It  was  an  exceed- 
ingly hot  day  when  I  passed  through,  and  having  stripped  my- 
self of  nearly  all  my  clothing,  I  rolled  about  at  my  own  sweet 


m::i 


mam^ 


304 


LAKE  TIHISCOUTA. 


I 


i;;5^« 


will,  not  only  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  cool,  but  that  I  might 
do  a  good  business  in  the  way  of  killing  time.  At  one  moment 
I  was  dipping  my  feet  and  hands  in  the  water,  humming  a  light- 
some tune  of  yore,  and  anon  sketching  the  portrait  of  a  moun- 
tain or  a  group  of  trees.  Now  I  lay  flat  upon  my  back,  and 
while  I  watched  the  fantastic  movements  of  the  clouds,  as  they 
crossed  the  blue  of  heaven,  I  attended  to  the  comforts  of  the 
inner  man  by  sucking  maple  sugar.  Now  I  called  upon  the 
boatmen  to  sing  me  j.  song,  and,  while  they  complied  with  my 
request,  I  fixed  myself  in  the  poetical  attitude  of  a  Turk,  and 
smoked  a  cigar.  At  one  time,  we  halted  at  a  mountain  spring, 
to  obtain  a  refreshing  drink,  and  at  another,  the  men  pulled  up 
to  some  rocky  point,  that  I  might  have  the  pleasure  of  throw- 
ing the  fly.  Thus  vagabondizing,  "pleasantly  the  days  of 
Thalaba  went  by." 

My  voyage  down  the  Madawaska  was  not  without  a  charac- 
teristic incident.  There  was  quite  a  fleet  of  canoes  descending 
at  the  same  time,  some  of  them  laden  with  women  and  babies, 
and  some  with  furs,  tin-kettles  and  the  knapsacks  of  home- 
bound  lumbermen.  Two  of  the  canoes  were  managed  by  a 
Canadian  and  a  Scotchman,  who  seemed  to  cherish  a  deeply- 
rooted  passion  for  racing.  They  paddled  a  number  of  heats, 
and  as  they  were  alternately  beaten,  they  both,  finally,  became 
angry,  and  began  to  bet  extravagantly.  The  conclusion  of  the 
whole  matter  was  that  they  went  ashore  on  a  bushy  point  among 
the  mountains,  and  settled  their  difliculty  by  a  "  private  fight." 
They  fought,  "  like  brave  men,  long  and  well,"  and  by  the  time 
one  had  a  tooth  knocked  out  of  his  head,  and  the  other  had 
nearly  lost  an  eye,  they  separated,  and  quietly  resumed  their 
way.  These  were  the  only  wild  animals  that  I  saw  in  the  Ma- 
dawiska  wilderness. 


THE    ACADIANS. 


At  the  junction  of  the  river  Madawaska  and  St.  John,  and 
extending  for  soipe  miles  down  the  latter,  is  a  settlement  of 
about  three  hundred  Acadians.  How  these  people  came  by 
the  name  they  bear,  I  do  not  exactly  understand,  but  of  their 
history,  I  remember  the  following  particulars.  In  the  year 
1755,  during  the  existence  of  the  colonial  difficulties  between 
England  and  France,  there  existed  in  a  remote  section  of  Nova 
Scotia,  about  fifteen  thousand  Acadians.  Aristocratic  French 
blood  flowed  in  their  veins,  and  they  were  a  peaceful  and  indus- 
trious race  of  husbandmen.  Even  after  the  government  of 
England  had  become  established  in  Canada,  they  cherished  a 
secret  attachment  for  the  laws  of  their  native  country.  But 
this  was  only  a  feeling,  and  they  continued  in  the  peaceful  cul- 
tivation of  their  lands.  In  process  of  time,  however,  three 
titled  Englishmen,  named  Lawrence,  Boscawan  and  Moysten, 
held  a  council  and  formed  the  hard-hearted  determination  of 
driving  this  people  from  their  homes,  and  scattering  them  to 
the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  Playing  the  part  of  friends, 
this  brotherhood  of  conquerors  and  heroes  sent  word  to  the 
Acadians  that  they  must  all  meet  at  a  certain  place,  on  business 
which  deeply  concerned  their  welfare.  Not  dreaming  of  their 
impending  fate,  the  poor  Acadians  met  at  the  appointed  place, 
and  were  there  informed  of  the  fact  that  their  houses  and  lands 
were  forfeited,  and  that  they  must  leave  the  country  to  become 
wanderers  in  strange  and  distant  lands.  They  sued  for  mercy, 
but  the  iron  yoke  of  a  Christian  nation  was  laid  more  heavily 
upon  their  necks,  in  answer  to  that  prayer,  and  they  were  driven 
20 


806 


THE  ACADIANS. 


S-^'    !, 


/-' 


ini 


It  1 


from  home  and  country,  and  as  they  sailed  from  shore,  or  en- 
tered the  wilderness,  they  saw  in  the  distance,  ascending  to 
Heaven,  the  smoke  of  all  they  had  lovod  and  lost.  Those  who 
survived,  found  an  asylum  in  the  United  States,  and  in  the 
more  remote  portions  of  the  British  empire,  and  when,  after 
the  war,  they  were  invited  to  return  to  their  early  homes,  only 
thirteen  hundred  were  knoAvn  to  be  in  existence.  It  is  a  rem- 
nant of  this  very  people  who,  with  their  descendants,  are  now 
the  owners  of  the  Madawaska  settlement,  and  it  is  in  an  Aca- 
dian dwelling  that  I  am  now  penning  this  chapter.  But  owing 
to  their  many  misfortunes,  (I  would  speak  in  charity,)  the  Aca- 
dians  have  degenerated  into  a  more  ignorant  and  miserable 
people  than  are  the  Canadian  French,  whom  they  closely  re- 
semble iu  their  appearance  and  customs,  liiey  believe  the 
people  of  Canada  to  be  a  nation  of  knaves,  and  the  people  of 
Canada  know  them  to  be  a  half  savage  community.  Worship- 
ping a  miserable  priesthood,  is  their  principal  business ;  drink- 
ing and  cheating  their  neighbors,  their  principal  amusement. 
They  live  by  tilling  the  soil,  and  are  content  if  they  can  barely 
make  the  provision  of  one  year  take  them  to  the  entrance  of 
another.  They  are,  at  the  same  time,  passionate  lovers  of 
money,  and  have  brought  the  science  of  fleecing  strangers  to 
perfection.  Some  of  them  by  a  life  of  meanness  have  suc- 
ceeded in  accumulating  a  respectable  property;  but  all  the 
money  they  obtain  is  systematically  hoarded.  It  is  reported 
of  the  principal  man  of  this  place  that  he  has  in  his  house,  at 
the  present  moment,  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  in  silver 
and  gold,  and  yet  this  man's  children  are  as  ignorant  of  the  al- 
phabet as  the  cattle  upon  the  hills.  But  with  all  their  ignor- 
ance, the  Acadians  are  a  happy  people,  though  the  happiness  is 
of  a  mere  animal  nature. 

The  scenery  of  this  place,  which  does  not  seem  to  possess  a 
name,  is  quite  agreeable,  but  its  attractive  features  are  of  an 
architectural  character.  The  first  is  a  block  house,  and  the 
second  a  Catholic  church.  The  block  house  occupies  the  sum- 
mit of  a  commanding  and  rocky  knoll,  and  was  built  at  a  coat 
of  near  five  thousand  dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  defending  this 


^mfi^m 


THE  ACADIANS. 


807 


portion  of  New  Brunswick,  during  the  existence  of  the  late 
boundary  difficulty.  The  edifice  is  built  of  stone  and  timber, 
and  may  be  described  as  a  square  box,  placed  upon  another  and 
larger  one  in  a  triangular  fashion ;  the  width  may  be  thirty  feet, 
and  the  height  one  hundred  and  fifty.  It  is  well  supplied  with 
port  holes,  entered  by  a  wooden  flight  of  stairs,  and  covered 
with  a  tin  roof.  It  contains  two  stores,  besides  a  well-filled 
magazine.  It  is  abundantly  supplied  with  guns  and  cannon, 
and  almost  every  variety  of  shot,  shells  and  balls.  It  was  once 
occupied  by  three  military  companies,  (about  all  that  it  would 
possibly  hold ;)  but  the  only  human  being  who  now  has  any 
thing  to  do  with  it,  is  a  worthy  man,  who  officiates  as  keeper. 
The  panorama  which  this  fortress  overlooks,  is  exceedingly  pic- 
turesque, embracing  both  the  valleys  of  Madawaska  and  that  of 
the  St.  John,  Avhich  fade  away  amid  a  multitude  of  wild  and 
uncultivated  mountains.  When  I  f.rst  looked  upon  this  block 
house,  it  struck  rae  as  being  a  most  ridiculous  affair,  but  on  fur- 
ther examination,  I  became  convinced  that  it  could  not  be  taken 
without  the  shedding  of  much  blood.  Compared  with  such  a 
frontier  post  as  Fort  Snelling  on  the  Mississippi,  however,  it 
sinks  into  insignificance. 

Of  the  church  to  which  I  alluded,  I  have  only  to  remark 
that  it  is  a  very  small,  and,  apparently,  a  venerable  structure, 
built  of  wood,  painted  yellow,  with  a  red  steeple.  It  is  plea- 
santly located,  amid  a  cluster  of  rude  cabins,  on  the  margin  of 
the  St.  John,  and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  race  course. 
It  was  my  fate  to  spend  a  Sabbath  in  this  Madawaska  settle- 
ment. As  a  matter  of  course,  I  attended  church.  The  con- 
gregation was  large,  and  composed  entirely  of  Acadians ;  deck- 
ed out  in  the  most  ridiculous  gcw-gawish  dresses  imaginable.  I 
noticed  nothing  extraordinary  on  the  occasion,  only  that  at  the 
threshold  of  the  church,  was  a  kind  of  stand,  where  a  woman 
was  selling  sausages  and  small  beer.  The  services  were  read 
in  Latin,  and  a  sermon  preached  in  French,  which  contained 
nothing  but  the  most  common-place  advice,  and  that  all  of  a 
secular  character.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  the  male 
portion  of  the  congregation  gradually  collected  together  on  the 


s-?i  ^: 


8Q8 


THB  ACADIANS. 


neighboring  green,  and  the  afternoon  was  devoted  to  horse 
racing,  the  swiftest  horse  belonging  to  the  loudest  talker,  and 
heaviest  stake  planter,  and  that  man  was — a  disciple  of  the 
Pope,  and  the  identical  priest  whom  I  had  heard  preach  in  the 
morning.  It  will  be  hard  for  you  to  believe  this,  but  I  have 
written  the  truth,  as  well  as  my  last  line  about  the  Acadian 
settlement  on  the  Madawaska. 


m'^ 


,,,  » . 


■.)■;.  J<fJ 


IS 


"Si!. 


f«K^ 


DOWN    THE    MADAWASKA. 


In  coming  to  the  Falls  of  the  St.  John,  from  the  North,  the 
traveller  finds  it  necessary  to  descend  the  river  St.  John  ii  a 
canoe.  The  distance  from  Madawaska  is  thirty-six  miles,  and 
the  day  that  I  passed  down  was  delightful.  My  canoe  was 
only  about  fifteen  feet  long,  but  my  voyageur  was  an  experl  ■-"  \ 
faithful  man,  and  we  performed  the  trip  witnout  the  slig  itesi. 
accident. 

The  valley  of  this  poi'tion  of  the  river  is  mountainous,  and 
its  immediate  banks  vary  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet  in  height. 
The  water  is  very  clear  and  rapid,  but  of  a  brownish  color,  and 
quite  warm,  varying  in  depth  from  three  to  thirty  feet,  and  the 
width  is  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  That  portion  of  the  stream 
(say  some  seventy  miles  of  its  source,)  which  belongs  exclusively 
to  the  United  States,  runs  through  a  fertile  and  beautiful  coun- 
try, abounds  in  water-falls  and  rapids,  and  is  yet  a  wilderness. 
That  portion  which  divides  the  United  Stater  Troni  New  Bruns- 
wick is  somewhat  cultivated,  but  principally  by  \  French  popu- 
lation. Owing  to  the  /act  that  the  farms  all  face  the  river,  and 
are  very  narrow,  (but  extend  back  to  the  distance  of  two  or 
three  miles,}  the  houses  have  all  been  erected  immediately  on 
the  river,  so  that,  to  the  casual  observer,  the  country  might 
appear  to  be  thickly  inhabited,  which  is  far  from  being  the  case. 
The  principal  business  done  on  the  river,  is  the  driving  of  logs 
and  timber  for  the  market  of  St.  John;  and  exceptiag  the 
worthy  and  hard-working  lumbermen  who  toil  in  the  forests,  the 
people  are  devoted  to  the  tilling  of  their  land,  and  are  precisely 
similar  to  the  Acadians  in  their  manners  and  customs,  and  pro- 
bably from  the  same  stock.  There  is  a  miniature  steam- 
boat on  the  river>  but  as  the  unnumbered  canoes  of  the  inha- 


It 


w'^m 


I 


•-1..-3I 


!*''», 


h&- 


'iiu^m 


nio 


DOAVN  THE  MADAWASKA. 


bitants  are'engaged  in  a  kirid  of  opposition  line,  the  fiery  little 
craft  would  seem  to  have  a  hard  time.  In  navigating  the  river 
the  voyageurs  paddle  down  stream,  but  use  a  pole  in  ascending ; 
and  two  smart  men,  gracefully  swinging  their  poles,  and  send- 
ing their  little  vessel  rapidly  against  the  current,  taken  in  con- 
nection with  the  pleasant  scenery  of  the  river,  present  an  agree- 
able and  novel  sight. 

We  started  from  Madawaska  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  having  travelled  some  twenty  miles,  we  thought  we  would 
stop  at  the  first  nice-looking  tavern  on  the  shore,  (for  about 
every  other  dwelling  is  well  supplied  with  liquor,  and,  conse- 
quently, considered  a  tavern,)  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a 
breakfast.  Carefully  did  we  haul  up  our  canoe,  and  having 
knocked  at  the  cabin  door,  were  warmljj  welcomed  by  a  savage- 
looking  man,  whose  face  was  completely  besmeared  with  dirt, 
and  also  by  a  dirty-looking  Avoman,  a  couple  of  dirty-legged 
girls,  and  a  young  boy.  The  only  furniture  in  the  room  was 
a  bed,  and  a  small  cupboard,  while  the  fire-place  was  without 
a  particle  of  fire.  In  one  corner  of  the  room  Avas  a  kind  of  bar, 
where  the  boy  was  in  attendance,  and  seemed  to  be  the  spokes- 
man of  the  dwelling.  We  asked  liim  if  we  could  have  some 
breakfast,  and  he  promptly  replied  that  we  could. 

"What  can  you  give  us?"  was  my  next  question.  '  '  '  • 
"Anything  you  please,"  replied  the  boy,  in  broken  English. 
"We'll  take  some  ham  and  eggs,  then."  ■      '         -■" 

"  We  haven't  any,  only  some  eggs."  m  •  .    .    ,, 

•We'll  take  some  bread  and  milk."        <  j    .  '.  ,  .>  •,  v 

"  We  have'nt  any  bread,  but  plenty  of  milk."         •    ■'  ''    '  ''• 
"Haven'tyou  any  kind  of  meat  ?"  ..   '»  f  '       r 
"  No,  plenty  of  Rum.     What' II  you  have  T ' 
I  could  stand  this  no  longer,  and  having  expressed  my  dis- 
pleasure at  the  ignorance  of  the  boy,  and  condemned  his  father 
for  pretending  to  keep  a  tavern,  I  gave  the  former  a  sixpence, 
and  took  half  a  dozen  eggs,  with  which  we  returned  to  our 
canoe.     While  I  was  fixing  my  seat  in  the  boat,  and  comment- 
ing upon  wilderness  hospitality,  my  companion  amused  himself 
by  swallo\ving  four  of  the  purchased  eggs  in  a  leather  cup  of 
brandy.   In  two  hours  after  this  little  adventure,  our  oanoe 


nOAVN  THE  MADAWASKA. 


811 


was  moored  above  the  Falls  of  the  St.  John,  and  we  were  enjoy- 
ing a  first  rate  breakfast,  prepared  by  the  wife  of  a  Mr.  Russell, 
who  keeps  a  comfortable  house  of  entertainment  in  this  place. 

After  I  liad  finished  my  cigar,  and  enjoyed  a  resting  spell,  I 
pocketed  my  sketch-book,  and  spent  the  entire  day  examining 
the  scenery  of  the  Falls.     After  a  broad  and  beautiful  sweep, 
the  river  St.  John  here  makes  a  sudden  turn,  and,  becoming 
contracted  to  the  width  of  about  fifty  yards,  the  waters  make  a 
plunge  of  perhaps  forty  feet,  which  is  mostly  in  a  solid  mass, 
though  rather  disposed  to  form  the  third  of  a  circle  from  shore  to 
shore.  Below  this  pitch,  and  extending  for  about  a  mile,  is  a  suc- 
cession of  falls,  which  make  the  entire  descent  some  eighty  feet. 
The  water  rushes  through  what  might  be  termed  a  winding 
chasm,  whose  walls  are  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two 
hundred  feet  high,  perpendicular,  and  composed  of  a  blueish 
calcareous  slate.     Generally  speaking,  the  entire  distance  from 
the  first  fall  to  the  last,  presents  a  sheet  of  foam,  though  around 
every  jutting  point  is  a  black,  and,  apparently,  bottomless  pool, 
which,  Avhen  I  peered  into   them,  were  quite  alive  with  salmon, 
leaping  into  the  air,  or  swimming  on  the  margin  of  the  foam. 
On  the  western  side  of  the  walla,  to  a  great  extent,  the  original 
forest  has  been  suffered  to  remain,  and  a  walk  through  its  sha- 
dowy recesses  is  an  uncommon  treat ;  and  on  this  side,  also,  is 
the  ruin  of  an  old  saw-mill,  which  adds  to   the  picturesque 
beauty  of  the  spot.     On  the  eastern  side  of  the  fulls  is  a  com- 
manding hill,  which  has  boon  stripped  of  its  forest,  and  now 
presents  a  stump  field,  of  three  hundred  acres.     It  is  a  desolate 
spot,  but  in  strict  keeping  with  the  enterprise  of  the  Province. 
The  expense  of  clearing,  or,  rather,  half  clearing  the  hill  in 
question,  was  six  thousand  dollars,  and  it  was  the  original  in- 
tention of  the  mother  government  to  erect  thereon  an  extensive 
fortress";  but  owing  to  the  birth  of  a  sensible  reflection,  the  idea 
was  abandoned.     The  barracks  of  the  place,  as  they  now  exist, 
consist  of  two  log  houses,  which  are  occupied  by  a  dozen  sprigs 
of  the  British  Army.     And  thus  endeth  my  account  of  one  of 
the  most  picturesque  spots  in  New  Brunswick,  which,  I  doubt  not, 
may  hereafter  become  a  fashionable  place  of  summer  resort. 


fi'^' 


THE    HERMIT   OF    AROOSTOOK. 


tiUfff 


m 


m 


On  my  way  down   the   River  St.  John,  I  heard  that  the 
Aroostook,  one  of  its  principal  tributaries,  was  famous  for  its 
salmon  and  a  picturesque  water-fall,  so  I  took  up  my  quarters 
at  a  tavern  near  the  mouth  of  that  stream,  with  a  view  of 
throwing  the  fly  for  a  few  days,  and  adding  to  my  stock  of 
sketches.     I  arrived  in  the  forenoon,  and  after  depositing  my 
luggage  in  an  upper  room,  and  ordering  a  dinner,  I  proceeded 
to  arrange  my  tackle  and  pencils  for  an  afternoon  expedition. 
This  preparatory  business  I  performed  in  the  sitting-room  of 
the  tavern,  where  there  happened  to  be  seated  at  the  time,  and 
reading  the  New  York  Albion,  an  oddly-dressed,  but  gentle- 
manly-looking man.     In  form,  he  was  tall  and  slender,  appeared 
to  be  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and  there  was  such  an  air  of  re- 
finement in  his  appearance  and  manners,  that  ho  attracted  my 
particular  attention.     I   said  nothing,   however,   and    quietly 
continued  my  snelling  operations,  until  summoned  to  dinner. 
While  at  the  table,  I  sent  for  the  landlord,  to  incjuiro  about  the 
ptranger  whom  I  had  noticed,  and  his  reply  was  as  follows : — 
t'His  name  is  Itohert  IJgger ;  ho  is  a  strange  but  good  man, 
and  lives  the  life  of  a  recluse ;  his  house  is  above  the  fall,  on 
the  Aroostook,  and  about  four  miles  from  hero.     He  has  been 
in  this  part  of  the  country  for  many  years,  but  I  seldom  see  him 
at  my  house,  excepting  when  he  wants  to  read  the  news,  put  a 
letter  in  the  office,  or  purchase  a  bag  of  flour." 

With  this  intelligence  I  was  quite  delighted,  for  I  fancied 
that  I  had  discovered  a  character,  Avhich  eventually  proved  to 
bo  the  case.     On  returning  to  the  room  whore  the  stranger  was 


im^^^ 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


313 


seated,  I  introduced  myself  by  offering  him  a  cigar ;  and  while 
fixing  my  rod,  asked  him  a  few  questions  about  the  surround- 
ing country.  His  replies  proved  him  to  be  an  intelligent  man, 
and  as  he  happened  to  express  himself  a  lover  of  the  "  gentle 
art,"  I  offered  him  the  rise  of  some  fishing  tackle,  and  invited 
him  to  accompany  me.  He  refused  my  offer,  but  accepted  my 
invitation,  and  we  started  for  the  Aroostook.  He  officiated  as 
my  guide  :  and  when  we  approached  the  river,  which  was  from 
two  to  five  feet  deep,  about  one  hundred  yards  wide,  very  rapid 
filled  with  bridge  piers  in  ruin,  wo  jumped  into  a  Frenchman's 
canoe,  and  were  landed  on  the  northern  shore.  Here  we  came 
into  a  road  which  passed  directly  along  the  bank  of  the  river  ; 
this  wo  followed  for  one  mile,  until  we  arrived  at  a  flouring 
mill,  located  at  ♦he  mouth  of  a  large  and  very  beautiful  brook 
where  the  road  made  a  sudden  turn  towards  the  north.  Di- 
rectly opposite  the  mill,  on  the  Aroostook  side,  was  a  narrow 
and  rai^id  rift,  whore,  my  friend  told  me,  I  was  sure  to  hook  a 
salmon.  I  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  the  place,  but  took 
his  advice  and  waded  in.  I  tried  my  luck  for  some  thirty 
minutes,  but  could  not  tempt  a  single  fish.  This  my  friend  did 
not  understand ;  he  said  there  were  salmon  there,  and  thought 
that  the  fault  was  mine.  I  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  there- 
fore handed  him  my  rod,  that  he  might  try  his  fortune.  He 
fished  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  and  then  broke  the  fly-tip  of  my 
rod.  As  I  was  cherisliing  an  earnest  desire  to  take  at  least  one 
salmon  under  the  fell,  which  I  thought  the  only  likely  place  to 
succeed,  and  towards  which  I  had  set  my  face,  this  little  acci- 
dent made  mo  exceedingly  nervous.  My  friend  attempted  to  con- 
sole me  by  remarking,  that,  as  it  was  getting  to  be  toward 
evening,  wo  had  better  return  to  the  tavern,  and  take  a  fresh 
start  in  the  morning.  But  this  proposition  did  not  suit  mo  at 
all,  and  I  promptly  said  so.  "Just  as  you  please,"  replied  my 
companion,  and  so  wo  repaired  the  rod  and  continued  up  the 
river.  Very  rapid,  with  many  and  deep  pools,  was  this  portion 
of  the  stream  ;  and  our  course  along  the  shore,  over  logs  and 
fallen  trees,  through  tangled  underbrush,  and  around  rocky 
points — was  attended  with  every  imaginable  difficulty,  and  so  con- 


m\ 


r\ 


P^ 


*'^* 


314 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


tinued  for  at  least  two  miles.  On  coming  in  sight  of  the  fall, 
howevti ,  I  was  more  than  amply  repaid  for  all  ray  trouble,  by 
the  p'.  js  rf^t  which  there  presented  itself.  It  was,  perhaps, 
one  '.  nr  .efore  sunset,  and  there  was  a  delightful  atmosphere 
resting  upon  the  landscape.  Directly  before  me,  in  the  extreme 
distance,  and  immediately  under  the  crimson  sun,  was  a  narrow 
rocky  gorge,  through  which  foamed  the  waters  of  the  Aroos- 
took, over  a  precipice  of  some  thirty  feet;  and  just  below  the 
fall,  rose  a  perpendicular  rock  to  the  height  of  nearly  one  hun- 
dred feet,  dividing  the  stream  into  two  channels.  The  entire 
middle  distance  of  the  prospect  was  composed  of  a  broad  and 
almost  circular  basin  of  very  deep  and  dark  water,  skirted 
mostly  with  a  rocky  shore,  while  directly  across  the  surface  of 
this  pool,  winding  down  the  stream,  was  a  line  of  foam,  distin- 
guishing the  main  channel ;  while  the  foreground  of  this  picture 
consisted  of  a  gravelly  beach,  two  bark  wigwams,  several  canoes 
and  some  half  dozen  Indians,  who  were  enjoying  their  evening 
meal  by  the  side  of  an  expiring  fire. 

We  held  a  brief  conversation  with  the  Indians,  and  found 
out  they  had  visited  the  basin  for  the  purpose  of  spearing  sal- 
mon by  torchlight ;  and  while  my  companion  sat  down  in  their 
midst  to  rest  himself,  I  jumped  into  one  of  the  canoes,  and  pail- 
dled  to  the  foot  of  the  fall,  to  try  one  of  my  fancy  flies.  I 
fished  for  about  thirty  minutes — caught  one  small  salmon — 
lost  two  very  large  ones,  and  returned  to  the  Indian  camp, 
where  I  had  previously  concluded  to  spend  the  night,  provided 
my  guide  did  not  insist  upon  returming  to  the  tavern  by  moon- 
light. It  so  happened,  however,  that  my  interesting  plan  was 
vetoed  by  my  companion,  who  told  mo  that  his  dwelling  was 
only  a  mile  off',  and  that  I  must  go  and  spend  the  night  vith 
him.  I  willingly  assented  to  this  proposition,  and  having  pick- 
ed up  the  salmon,  wo  engaged  the  -Indiant  to  ferry  us  across 
the  basin,  and  proceeded  on  our  way.  Our  path  was  somewhat 
narrow,  crooked,  and  intricate,  and  as  I  listened  to  the  roaring 
of  the  water-fall,  and  thought  of  the  mystery  which  hung  over 
my  companion,  I  could  not  but  wonder  what  I  was  about,  and 
to  what  strange  place  I  was  going. 


TEE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


815 


In  due  time,  however,  we  emerged  from  the  woods,  and  came 
out  upon  the  side  of  a  gentle  hill,  which  sloped  to  the  margin 
of  the  Aroostook,  and  was  sufficiently  open  to  command  an 
extensive  view  of  the  river.  Here  my  friend  told  me  to  tarry 
a  few  moments,  for  he  had  a  canoe  hidden  among  some  willows, 
and  wished  to  hunt  it  up,  that  we  might  recross  the  river  once 
more.  I  heard  his  words,  but  neglected  to  assist  him,  for  my 
whole  attention  was  riveted  by  the  scene  upon  which  I  was 
gazing.  The  sober  livery  of  twilight  had  settled  upon  the 
world,  and  the  flowing  of  the  river  was  so  peaceful,  that  I  could 
distinctly  hear  the  hum  of  unnumbered  insects  as  they  sported 
in  the  air.  On  the  opposite  shore  was  a  lofty  forest-covered 
hill,  and  at  the  foot  of  it  a  small  clearing,  in  the  centre  of  which 
stood  a  rude  log  cabin — the  dwelling-place  of  my  friend.  On 
my  left,  the  river  presented  the  appearance  of  a  lake:  and 
apparently  in  the  centre  of  it  were  two  of  the  most  exquisitely 
foliaged  islands  imaginable.  The  valley  seemed  completely 
hemmed  in  with  mountains,  and  these,  together  with  a  glowing 
sky,  were  all  distinctly  mirrored  in  the  sleeping  waters.  Charm- 
ing beyond  compare  was  tliifl  evening  landscape,  and  the  holy 
time  "was  quiet  as  a  nun,  breathless  with  adoration."  But  now 
my  companion  summoned  me  to  a  seat  i'.i  the  canoe,  and  we 
passed  over  the  stream  in  safety ;  he  haulyd  up  his  shallop,  laid 
aside  his  paddle,  and,  slapping  me  on  tl:e  shoulder,  led  the  way 
to  his  cabin,  repeating,  in  a  loud,  clear  voice,  the  following 
nO'-ds:  '  •       ■ 

"  Alono  I  live,  botwoon  four  hills; 

Pivmocl  Roostook  runs  between: 
At  times,  wild  animals  appear, 

But  men  are  seldom  seen." 

On  entering  the  hut,  which  was  now  quite  dark,  as  it  only 
contained  one  window,  my  companion  turned  abruptly  round, 
and  after  making  a  frolicsome  remark  about  my  being  in  hia 
power,  ho  exclaimed — "That  poetry  I  repeated  to  you  just  now 
was  a  home-spun  article;  but  as  you  might  fancy  something  a 
little  more  civilized,  I  would  say  to  you,  my  young  friend,  in 
the  language  of  Wordsworth's  Solitary, 


S?'Pa 


■■»wi",  ► 


316 


THE  HERMIT  OP  AROOc^TOOK. 


*  *. 


'This  is  my  (U-inair   my  cell, 
My  hermitage,  my  cabin,  w!;at  you  -vill— ^        .., 
I  love  iti  beUer  thiif;  a  snail  hh  )\ous<) 
But  n(AV  ye  nhall  be  feasted  with  ovir  besv."' 

Soon  as  tb('?c-  words  hvd  fallen  from  his  lips,  my  friend  pro- 
ceeded to  coridct  some  wood  for  a  fire,  and  while  I  was  left  to 
kindle  the  flame,  he  seized  a  tin  pail,  nnd  went  after  soue  Bpj  ing 
water,  whicb^  h^  said,  was  como  distance  off.  In  a  few  Tiioraents, 
I  produced  a  sufiicient  quant'ty  o!'  light  to  ans'.  •  my  purpose, 
and  then  took  occasion  to  survey  the  roj'TO,  into  which  I  had 
f^een  thv.-o  strangely  introduced.  Everything  about  me  seemed 
to  be  oddity  itself.  First  was  the  huge  fireplace,  rudely  made 
of  rough  stones,  and  filled  with  ashes ;  then  the  blackish  ap- 
pearance of  the  log  walls  around,  and  the  hemlock  rafters  above. 
In  one  corner  stood  a  kind  of  wooiien  box,  filled  with  blankets, 
which  answered  the  purpose  of  a  hod ;  and  in  front  of  the  only 
window  in  tho  cabin  was  a  pine  table  on  which  stood  an  ink- 
stand and  some  writing  paper,  and  uuilor  which  sat  a  large  gray 
cat,  watching  my  movements  with  a  suspicious  eye.  In  one 
place  stood  a  wooden  chest,  and  a  half-barrel  of  meal,  and  the 
only  things  in  the  room  to  sit  upon,  were  a  couple  of  wooden 
chairs.  The  crevices  in  the  walls  were  stopped  up  with  I'aga 
and  clay,  and  from  various  rafters  depended  bundles  of  mint, 
hemlock,  and  other  useful  productions  of  the  wood.  A  rusty 
old  gun,  and  a  home-made  fishing  rod  occupied  one  corner ;  and 
on  every  side,  resting  upon  wooden  pegs,  were  numerous  shelves, 
of  every  size  and  form,  which  were  appropriated  to  a  variety  of 
uses.  On  one  or  two  of  them  were  the  cooking  utensils  of  my 
friend ;  on  another,  a  lot  of  smoky  books ;  and  on  others,  a  little 
of  everything,  from  a  box  of  salt  or  paper  of  tea,  down  to  a 
spool  of  thread  or  a  paper  of  needles. 

In  a  few  moments  my  friend  entered  the  cabin,  and  immedi- 
ately began  to  prepare  our  evening  meal,  which  consisted  of 
bread,  fried  pork,  and  salmon,  and  a  cup  of  tea.  Plain  was 
our  food,  but  it  was  aa  nicely  cooked  as  if  it  had  been  done  by 
a  pretty  girl,  instead  of  an  old  man,  and  the  comic  pomposity 
with  which  every  little  matter  was  attended  to,  afforded  me 


TUE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


817 


much  amusement.  One  thing  I  rememher,  which  struck  me  as 
particularly  funny.  My  host  was  talking  about  the  conduct  of 
Sir  Robert  Peel  and  the  British  Parliament,  and  while  in  the 
midst  of  his  discourse,  opened  a  trap-door  leading  to  his  cellar, 
and  descended  therein,  i  knew  not  what  he  was  after,  and 
waited  his  re-appearance  with  some  anxiety,  when  suddenly  he 
bobbed  up  his  gl^iost-like  head,  resumed  the  thread  of  his  re- 
marks, and  held  forth  in  one  hand  a  huge  piece  of  fat  pork,  and 
as  he  became  excited  about  the  conduct  of  the  Prime  Minister, 
he  occasionally  slapped  the  pork  with  the  remaining  hand,  and 
then  shook  it  in  the  air,  as  if  it  had  been  one  of  the  bloody 
Irishmen  to  whom  he  was  occasionally  alluding.  He  reminded 
me  of  Shakspeare's  grave-digger.  I  also  remember,  that,  when 
my  friend  was  kneading  his  bread,  the  idea  entered  his  head, 
from  so  iC  remark  that  I  had  dropped,  t^at  I  did  not  compre- 
hend the  meaning  of  a  certain  passage  in  Shakspeare;  so  he 
imr.ediatoly  wiped  one  of  his  hands,  leaned  over  for  his  ragged 
copy  of  the  mighty  bard,  and  immediately  settled  the  question 
to  our  mutual  satisfaction. 

Supper  being  ended,  I  pulled  out  of  my  pocket  a  couple  of 
cigars  which  I  had  brought  with  me,  and  we  then  seated  our- 
selves comfortably  before  the  fire,  and  entered  into  a  systema- 
tic conversation.  The  greater  part  of  the  talking  was  done  by 
my  companion,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  I  gathered 
the  following  particulars  respecting  his  own  history : 

He  told  me  he  was  a  native  of  Hampshire,  England,  and  had 
spent  his  boyhood  in  the  city  of  London,  as  a  counting-house 
clerk.  He  claimed  a  good  name  for  his  family,  and  added  that 
Mr.  William  Jordan,  editor  of  the  London  Literary  Gazette, 
was  his  brother-in-law,  having  married  his  only  sister.  He 
avowed  himself  about  sixty  years  of  age,  and  had  been  a  resi- 
dent of  New  Brunswick  ever  since  the  vear  1809.  He  first 
came  across  the  Atlantic  as  a  government  agent,  for  the  trans- 
action of  business  connected  with  the  Fur  Trade  ;  and  when  he 
settled  in  the  province,  tho  whole  country  was  an  untrodden 
wilderness.  Since  that  time  he  had  followed  a  variety  of  em- 
ployments, had  acquired  a  competence,  but  lost  it  through  the 


H-.. 


\ '  -y 


IP 


le'lv. 


'4\: 


318 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


IIJ 


rascality  of  friends.  He  told  me  he  was  a  widower,  and 
that  he  had  one  son,  who  resided  in  Frederickton,  and  was  ra- 
pidly acquiring  a  reputation  for  his  knowledge  of  engineering. 
"It  does  my  heart  good  to  remember  this  fact,"  continued  my 
friend,  "  and  I  do  hope  that  my  son  will  not  disgrace  his  fiimily, 
as  some  people  seem  to  think  I  have  done.  The  God-forsaken 
inhabitants  of  this  region  have  a  habit  of  calling  me  a  crazy  old 
man.  God  be  praised  !  1  know  they  overshoot  the  mark  in 
that  particular ;  if  I  have  lost  my  reason,  I  can  tell  the  mock- 
ing world  that  I  have  endured  trouble  enough  to  make  even  a 
philosopher  a  raving  maniac.  By  patient  and  unwearied  toil, 
I  have  won  two  small  fortunes,  but  botii  of  them  were  snntched 
away,  and  I  was  left  a  beggar.  The  nome  government  took 
pity  on  me,  and  offered  to  make  me  a  present  of  land,  adding 
that  I  was  at  liberty  to  make  my  own  selection.  I  accepted 
their  offer,  and  selected  five  hundred  acres  on  the  Aroostook, 
making  the  fall  we  visited  this  evening  the  centre  of  my  do- 
main. I  duly  received  a  deed  for  the  property,  and  having 
concluded  that  my  fellow-men  were  as  tired  of  me  as  I  was  of 
them,  I  bolted  for  the  wilderness,  and  have  lived  here  ever 
since.  Yes,  sir,  for  twelve  years  have  I  been  the  only  human 
inmate  of  this  rude  cabin  ;  I  ought  to  except,  however,  '  a  lucid 
interval'  of  some  nine  months,  which  I  speiit  in  England,  about 
four  years  ago,  visiting  my  friends  and  the  favorite  haunts  of 
my  childhood.  To  enjoy  even  that  little  luxury,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  sacrifice  a  portion  of  my  land." 

"But  why  do  you  not  sell  your  entire  property,"  I  remarked, 
"  and  take  up  your  abode  among  men,  where  your  knowledge 
might  be  made  available?" 

" Knowledge,  indeed !"  replied  the  hermit  philosopher;  "all 
that  I  possess,  you  might  easily  hide  in  the  bowl  of  an  acorn. 
I  do  know  enough  to  cast  my  eyes  heavenward,  when  crushed 
by  misfortune,  but  the  ^ame  knowledge  was  possessed  by  the 
worm  upon  which  I  accidentally  trod  this  morning.  What  is 
man,  at  his  best  estate,  but  a  worm  !  But  this  is  not  answering 
your  question.  My  only  reason  for  not  selling  this  property 
is,  that  I  cannot  find  a  purchaaer.    Most  gladly  would  I  jump 


'     i 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


319 


at  the  chance,  and  then  I  would  mingle  with  my  fellow-men, 
and  endeavor  to  be  of  them.  Travelers,  who  sometimes  pass 
through  this  region,  tell  me  that  my  property  is  worth  $5000 ; 
know  it  to  be  worth  at  least  that  amount,  but  I  should  be 
glad  to  sell  it  for  $3000,  and  that,  too,  on  a  credit  of  ten  years. 
The  interest  would,  indeed,  be  a  meagre  income,  but  I  have 
schooled  myself  in  the  ways  of  poverty ;  and  though  it  once 
cost  me  $2000  to  carry  me  through  a  single  year,  I  can  tell 
you  that  my  expenses  for  the  last  five  years  have  not  averaged 
more  than  tioenty  dollars,  which  I  have  had  to  obtain  as  best  I 
could.  But  you  must  not  misunderstand  me.  The  little  clear- 
ing which  surrounds  my  rookery,  contains  six  acres,  and  as  I 
cultivate  them  with  all  diligence,  they  keep  me  from  actual 
starvation." 

"  But  it  strikes  me,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  ask  rather  an  ex- 
travagant price  for  your  uncultivated  land  ?"  I  asked  this 
question  with  a  view  of  obtaining  some  information  in  reference 
to  the  valley  of  the  Aroostook,  and  was  not  disappointed.  The 
reply  of  my  friend  was  as  follows : 

"  I  can  convince  you  that  you  are  mistaken.  In  the  first 
place,  the  water  privilege  which  my  land  covers,  is  acknow- 
ledged to  be  the  most  valuable  on  the  Aroostook,  and  I  may 
add,  that  it  is  abundiintly  fertile.  Aid  then  think  of  the  val- 
ley, at  the  very  threshhold  of  which  I  am  located  !  It  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  luxuriant  in  this  northern  wilderness  ; 
and  the  only  thing  against  it,  though  I  say  it  that  should  not, 
is  the  fact,  that  nearly  five  miles  of  its  outlet  belongs  to  the 
English  Government,  while  the  remainder  belongs  to  the  Uni- 
ted States.  The  whole  of  it  ought  to  be  yours ;  but  if  it  were, 
I  would  not  live  here  a  year  ;  I  am  near  enough  to  you  now ; 
directly  on  the  boundary  line  between  your  country  and  mine. 
The  Aroostook,  I  verily  believe,  is  one  of  the  most  important 
branches  of  the  St.  John.  Its  general  course  is  easterly,  but 
it  is  exceedingly  serpentine,  and  according  to  some  of  your 
best  surveyors,  drains  upwards  of  a  million  acres  of  the  best 
soil  in  Maine.  Above  my  place,  there  is  hardly  a  spot  that 
might  not  be  navigated  by  a  small  Bteamboat,  and  I  believe  the 


m-'^'* 


'*^Hrr*«b 


"~  'm 


!'f,  ??if5 


'I*;. 


It    ^''■ 


Hi 


iAm^3 


mr^ 

iB^^li^ 

JflU'lvl  M 

fpl^^ 

sjji.n 

&^^-: 

m 

K^:' 

1^:1 

H^" 

820 


THE  HEIIMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


time  ia  not  far  distant  when  your  enterprising  Yankees  will 
have  a  score  of  boats  employed  here,  in  carrying  their  grsin  to 
market.  Before  that  time  comes,  however,  you  must  dig  a 
canal  or  build  a  railroad  around  my  beautiful  waterfall,  which, 
I  am  sure,  could  be  done  for  $20,000.  An  extensive  lumber- 
ing business  is  now  carried  on  in  the  valley,  but  its  future 
prosperity  must  depend  upon  its  agriculture.  Already  are  its 
shores  dotted  with  well-cultivated  farms,  and  every  year  is  ad- 
ding to  their  number,  and  the  rural  beauty  of  those  already  in 
existence.  The  soil  of  this  valley  is  rich,  and  composed  prin- 
cipally of  what  is  called  alluvial  (not  interval)  land,  together 
with  the  quality  known  as  upland.  In  many  portions,  however, 
you  will  find  some  of  the  most  chaj-ming  intervals  in  the  world. 
The  trees  of  this  region  are  similar  to  those  of  your  Northern 
States.  The  staple  crop  of  the  Aroostook  farmer  is  wheat. 
Owing  to  the  shortness  of  our  seasons,  corn  does  not  arrive  at 
perfection,  and  its  cultivation  is  neglected.  Rye,  barley,  and 
oats,  all  flourish  here,  but  much  more  buckwheat  is  raised  than 
any  other  grain  besides  wheat.  Grasses  flourish  here  in  great 
perfection,  and  the  farmer  of  Aroostook  will  yet  send  to  market 
immense  (juantities  of  cattle.  As  to  the  climate,  it  is  not  so 
severe  as  is  generally  supposed.  Snow  falls  early,  and  conti- 
nues late,  which  prevents  the  ground  from  freezing  very  deep. 
And  when  summor  comes,  as  you  may  testify,  the  weather  is 
sufficiently  warm  tor  every  necessary  purpose.  Now,  sir,  do 
you  not  think  I  have  made  out  a  clear  case?"  I  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  and  thanked  him  for  the  information  he  had  given 
me.  Like  Oliver  Twist,  however,  I  was  anxious  for  "  more," 
and  therefore  endeavored  to  start  him  on  another  subject.  In 
this  lauilable  effort  I  fully  succeeded,  and  by  merely  expressing 
the  opinion  that  he  must  lead  a  very  lonely  life  in  this  remote 
wilderness. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  replied  my  friend.  "  It  is  my  good 
fortune  to  belong  to  that  class  of  men  who  depend  upon  books, 
the  works  of  nature,  and  themselves,  for  happiness,  and  not 
upon  a  selfish  and  heartless  world.  As  to  my  books,  they  are 
not  very  abundant,  nor  are  they  bound  in  fancy  morocco ;  but 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


321 


the  substance  of  them  is  of  the  right  sort.  Foremost  among 
them  is  the  Bible,  which  tells  even  a  poor  devil  like  me  that  he 
is  a  man.  Perfect  in  their  generation  are  the  truths  of  this 
glorious  old  book ;  they  have  an  important  bearing  upon  every- 
thing; and  they  should  be  studied  and  cherished  with  jealous 
care.  But  the  earth-born  men,  with  whom  I  hold  daily  com- 
munion, are  the  mighty  Shakspeare,  the  splendid  Gibbon,  the 
good  and  loving  brother  poets  Thomson  and  Wordsworth,  the 
gifted  but  wayward  Burns,  the  elegant  and  witty  Addison,  and 
the  ponderous  Johnson.  These  are  the  minds  which  always 
afford  me  solid  satisfaction.  As  to  the  immense  herd  who  keep 
the  printing  presses  of  the  present  day  constantly  employed, 
I  know  nothing  about  them,  and  care  still  less.  And  now  as 
to  the  pleasures  which  are  brought  to  mo  by  the  revolving  sea- 
sons. They  are  indeed  manifold,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  remem- 
ber that 'Nature  never  did  betray  the  heart  that  loved  her.* 
The  hills  which  surround  my  cabin  I  look  upon  as  familiar 
friends ;  not  only  when  crowned  with  a  wreath  of  snow,  but 
when  rejoicing  in  their  summer  bloom ;  and  a  more  peaceful 
and  heart-soothing  stream  can  nowhere  be  found,  than  the  one 
which  flows  along  by  my  door ;  and  you  know  from  experience 
that  it  abounds  in  the  finest  of  salmon  and  trout.  The  sur- 
rounding woods  furnish  me  with  game,  but  their  greatest  trea- 
sures are  the  ten  thousand  beautiful  birds,  which  make  melody 
in  their  little  hearts,  and  afford  me  unalloyed  pleasure  for  at 
least  one-half  the  year.  I  seldom  have  occasion  to  kill  these 
feathered  minstrels  for  food,  and  the  consequence  is,  whenever 
I  go  out  into  my  fields  to  work,  they  gather  around  nse  without 
fear,  and  often  come  so  near,  as  to  be  in  my  very  way.  The 
quail  and  the  wren,  the  jay  and  the  blue-bird,  the  mocking-bird, 
the  partridge,  the  fish-hawk,  the  eagle,  and  the  crow,  and  also 
the  swallow,  the  owl  and  whippoorwill,  all  build  their  nests 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  my  door,  and  they  know  that  the 
friendless  old  man  will  do  them  no  harm.  And  then  what  ex- 
quisite pleasure  do  I  continually  enjoy  in  watching  the  ever- 
varying  changes  of  the  year !  First,  when  the  primrose  tells 
me  that  the  rains  are  over  and  gone,  and  I  go  forth  in  the  re- 
21 


'^., 


.  ^^'1 


%p 

•^^SjiM 

1^ 

T,  ;  ■    ' 

Wi 

5P3 


^m 


822 


THE  HERMIT  >)F  AROOSTOOK. 


fresliing  sunshine  to  sow  my  seeds ;  secondly,  when  the  glorious 
summer  ia  in  its  prime,  with  its  dewy  mornings  and  lovely  twi- 
lights ;  .also  in  the  sober  autumnal  time,  when  I  thoughtfully 
count  the  leaves  floating  on  the  bosom  of  the  stream ;  and  then, 
again,  when  the  cold  winds  of  winter  are  howling  around  my 
cabin,  and  I  sit  in  my  pleasant  solitude  before  a  roaring  fire, 
building  palaces,  in  my  mind,  as  I  peer  into  the  burning  embers. 
Yes,  sir,  I  have  learned  to  live  without  excitement,  and  to  de- 
pend upon  myself  for  the  companionship  I  need.  I  do,  indeed, 
occasionally  steal  out  of  my  beautiful  vale,  and  mingle  with  my 
fellow-men ;  but  I  always  return  perfectly  contented  with  my 
lot.  After  all,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  world  could  add  greatly 
to  my  stock  of  happiness,  even  if  I  were  a  worshipper  of  Mam- 
mon, a  braAvling  politician,  or  a  responsible  statesman." 

*'  But,  Mr.  Egger,  it  strikes  me  that  your  manner  of  life  is 
not  in  keeping  with  the  Bible,  for  which  you  have  expressed  so 
much  reverence." 

"  That  may  be  true,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  I  make  no  sancti- 
monious pi'otensions.  I  do  but  little  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  my  feliow-mcn,  andl  congratulate  myself  with  the  idea  that 
I  do  as  little  to  make  thera  miserable.  The  influence  of  ray 
example  amounts  to  nothing,  and  I  give  no  bread  to  the  poor, 
because  I  have  none  to  give.  But  let  us  drop  the  subject ;  I 
feel  that  your  questions  may  so  annoy  me,  that  I  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  abandon  this  glorious  old  wilderness,  and  become  a 
denizen  of  the  busy  and  noisy  world." 

A  breach  having  thus  been  made  in  our  discourse,  I  examined 
my  watch,  and  found  it  to  be  near  twelve  o'clock.  My  com- 
panion took  the  hint,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  fix  a  sleep- 
ing place  that  would  accommodate  us  both.  This  was  done  by 
spreading  the  clothes  of  the  wooden  bedstead  upon  the  floor. 
While  going  through  with  this  little  operation,  he  held  high 
above  his  head  a  ragged  old  bed-quilt,  and  asked  me  what  I 
thought  Queen  Victoria  would  say,  if  she  had  such  an  article 
to  rest  her  royal  limbs  upon  ?  He  then  pointed  to  the  particu- 
lar spot  which  ho  wanted  mo  to  occupy,  giving  as  a  reason  for 
the  request,  that  there  was  a  hole  on  the  opposite 'side  of  his 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


828 


mansion,  where  toads,  rats,  and  weasels  were  frequently  in  the 
habit  of  entering,  and  he  was  afraid  that  they  might  annoy  me, 
though  he  had  never  been  disturbed  by  their  nocturnal  visits. 
This  information  appeared  to  me  somewhat-  peculiar,  but  did 
not  prevent  me  from  undressing  myself  to  lie  down.  When 
about  half  through  this  business,  however,  I  was  actually  com- 
pelled to  take  a  seat  on  account  of  a  laughing  fit  brought  upon 
me  by  one  or  two  stories,  which  my  host  related  for  my  special 
benefit.  What  a  strange  man,  indeed !  thought  I,  and  making 
another  effort,  I  tumbled  into  bed.  In  the  meantime,  my  com- 
panion had  stripped  himself  of  everything  but  his  shirt,  and  in 
spite  of  the  frailty  of  his  "  spindle  shanks,"  was  throwing  him- 
self into  the  attitudes  for  which  Kerable  was  distinguished, 
whose  acting  he  had  often  witnessed  in  olden  times.  I  was 
already  quite  exhausted  with  excess  of  laughter,  and  I  verily 
believed  that  the  queer  antics  of  the  anchorite  and  philosopher 
would  be  the  death  of  me.  But  I  felt  that  I  must  go  to  sleep, 
and,  in  self-defence,  partly  covered  my  head  with  the  end  of  a 
quilt,  and  almost  swore  that  I  would  not  be  disturbed  again. 

I  did  not  swear,  however,  and  was  consequently  again  dis- 
turbed. I  had  just  fixed  my  head  upon  the  pillow,  as  I  thought, 
for  the  last  time,  when  I  was  startled  by  a  tremendous  yell  pro- 
ceeding from  without  the  cabin.  I  rushed  out  of  the  house  as 
if  the  old  Harry  himself  had  been  after  me,  and  beheld  my 
spare  and  venerable  friend  sitting  upon  a  stump,  gazing  upon 
the  rising  moon,  and  listening  to  the  distant  howl  of  a  wolf* 
with  one  of  his  feet  dangling  to  and  fro  like  the  pendulum  of  a 
clock.  *'  Wasn't  that  a  musical  yell,  my  boy?"  were  the  first 
words  spoken  by  the  hermit  mad-cap ;  and  then  he  went  on  to 
point  out  all  the  finer  features  of  the  scene  spread  out  before 
us.  Silently  flowed  the  stream,  grand  and  sublime  looked  the 
mountains,  clear  and  very  blue  the  sky,  spirit-like  the  moon  and 
stars,  and  above  the  neighboring  water-fall  ascended  a  column 
of  spray,  which  was  fast  melting  into  a  snowy  cloud.  After 
enjoying  this  picture  for  a  reasonable  time,  my  companion  then 
proposed  that  we  should  enjoy  a  swim  in  the  river,  to  which  ar- 
rangement I  assented,  even  as  did  the  wedding-guest  of  Cole- 


!!r  -m 


it . 


^^^  ill  -^ 


■  'W  -M 


,fyi>^*« 


Uif 


«.B!lii   ! 


mm 


fi'l' 


iitr   -'--l 


m 


w"^ 


324 


THE  HERMIT  OF  AROOSTOOK. 


ridge  to  the  command  of  the  Ancient  Mariner.  Our  hath 
ended,  we  reti'rned  to  the»cahin,  and  in  the  course  of  half  an 
hour,  the  hermit  and  the  stranger  were  side  hy  side  in  the  arms 
of  sleep. 

On  opening  my  eyes  in  the  morning,  the  pleasant  sunshine 
was  flooding  the  floor  through  the  open  door,  and  my  friend, 
who  had  risen  without  disturbing  me,  was  frying  some  trout 
ivhich  he  had  just  taken  in  the  stream.-  I  arose,  rolled  up  the 
bed,  and  prepared  myself  for  breakfast,  which  was  particularly 
relished  by  the  giver  and  the  receiver.  I  spent  the  forenoon 
rambling  about  the  estate  of  my  old  friend,  and  enjoying  the 
surrounding  scenery ;  I  then  proposed  to  him  that  he  should 
come  down  and  be  my  guest  at  the  tavern  on  the  St.  John  for 
a  day  or  two,  which  invitation  was  accepted.  Before  my  re- 
turn, I  took  a  sketch  of  the  secluded  vale  vhere  stands  the 
cabin  of  my  friend,  also  a  profile  of  his  own  handsome  face,  and 
a  view  of  his  water-fall ;  and  the  time  of  my  departure  having 
arrived,  the  philosophic  hermit  returned  to  his  solitary  cottage 
among  the  mountains.* 


*  While  on  a  second  visit  to  tho  Valley  of  the  St.  John,  in  1852,  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  again  meeting  my  Aroostook  friend,  whom  I  found  in  good 
health,  and  devoting  himself  to  mercautilu  pursuits  at  the  mouth  of  the 
beautiful  Tobifiuc. 


i\\ 


I 


THE  RIVER  ST.  JOHN. 


MM  n 


I  HAVE  recently  performed  a  pilgrimage  along  the  valley  of 
the  St.  John,  and  as  T  am  about  to  leave  the  river,  it  is  meet 
that  I  should  give  my  reader  a  record  of  my  observations.  The 
distance  from  the  Falls  of  St.  John  to  the  city  of  that  name, 
is  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles.  The  width  of  the  river  varies 
fropi  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  two  miles,  and  the  depth  from  two 
to  forty  feet.  That  portion  lying  north  of  Frederickton  abounds 
in  rapids  and  shallows,  and  is  navigated  only  by  flat-bottomed 
boats,  which  arc  taken  up  slircam  by  horse  power,  but  descend 
with  the  current.  Here,  for  tho  most  part,  the  shoves  are 
mountainous,  the  more  elevated  peaks  being  named  Mars  Hill 
and  Moose  Mountain, — and  only  partly  cultivated,  with  high 
and  picturesque  banks ;  tho  lowest  portion,  however,  is  of  a 
level  character,  and  presents  tho  appearance  of  an  ancient  and 
highly  cultivated  country,  and  is  navigated  by  steamboats,  and 
the  common  sail-craft  of  tho  country.  The  soil  all  along  the 
shores  is  good,  but  seems  better  adapted  for  grass  than  wheat, 
and  I  can  sec  no  good  reason  for  its  not  becoming  greatly  dis- 
tinguished as  a  grazing  country. 

Tho  lower  part  of  tho  river  is  not  famous  for  pictorial  fea- 
tures, though  it  abounds  in  beautiful  landscapes ;  but  a  place 
called  the  Narrows,  situated  at  tho  southern  extremity,  is 
worth  visiting.  At  this  point,  tho  stream  is  not  more  thau  five 
hundred  yards  wide,  and  as  it  is  bounded  on  cither  side  by  a 
high  rocky  barrier,  the  current  ordinarily  passes  through  with 
groat  rapidity.  Tho  tides  of  tho  ocean  ascend  about  thirty 
miles,  and  it  is  only  when  the  tide  is  high  that  tho  point  in 


^      •MW»»il 


) 


#;' 


326 


THE  RIVER  ST.  JOHN. 


^.^m 


J  / 


1 1>  ■. 


:?^' 


question  can  bo  navigated.  Though  these  narrows  are  a  great 
annoyance  to  the  navigator,  by  the  lover  of  the  picturesque 
they  are  highly  esteemed.  Not  only  are  they  beautiful  in  them- 
selves, but,  OAving  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  place,  it  is  frequently 
the  case,  that  the  broad  expanse  of  water  above  it  is  covered 
with  a  fleet  of  sloops,  schooners,  steamboats,  towboaty,  and 
timber  crafts,  which  present  a  peculiar  and  agreeable  panorama. 
The  river  abounds  with  salmon  and  shad,  and  the  former,  though 
rather  small,  may  be  taken  by  the  angler  in  the  principal  tri- 
butaries. They  are  not  sufficiently  abundant,  however,  to  con- 
stitute an  important  article  of  commerce,  and  the  conunon 
modes  of  taking  them  arc  with  the  spear  and  the  drift  net. 

The  principal  towns  on  the  St.  John  are,  Woodstock,  French 
Village,  Froderickton  and  St.  John.  The  first  of  these  is  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the  mouth,  and  tjjough  a  r!i;.r;^cil, 
yet  an  interesting  villiigo.  So  far  as  its  natural  prodiichons 
are  concerned,  I  am  disposed  to  compliment  this  I'rovini^o  in 
the  highest  terms  ;  but  I  must  say,  that  the  ignorance,  idleness, 
and  gouging  character  of  its  common  people,  have  made  mo 
quite  wil'ing  to  take  my  departure  tliertTrom.  The  expenses! 
of  travelling  arc  enormous.  Stage  faros  average  about  twelve 
cents  per  mile,  and  if  you  happen  to  spend  a  week  at  a  miser- 
able country  tavern,  you  will  have  to  pay  two  d(dlars  per  day  for 
board.  Witli  a  few  exceptions,  there  is  hardly  a  cotintn/  tavern 
in  the  Province,  where  the  traveller  is  not  in  danger  of  lining 
robbed.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  robbed  only  twice,  hut 
I  was  particularly  forlunate.  This  v.-i  rather  severe,  but  I  am 
driven  to  talk  in  this  strain,  though  I  would  not  be  under.stood 
as  reflecting  upon  the  better  classes  of  the  Province. 

The  stagc-routo  from  the  Grand  Falls  to  St.  John  passes 
through  Woodstock,  but  the  distance  from  this  place  to  the 
American  town  of  Iloulton  is  ten  miles,  and  in  this  direction 
there  is  also  an  established  stage-route  to  Bangor. 

The  next  place  on  the  St.  .lohn  of  any  note,  is  French  Vil- 
lage. It  contains  a  thousand  souls — most  of  them  Milielto  In- 
dians. They  live  in  frame  and  log  houses,  and  though  tjiey 
pretend  to  do  some  farming,  they  arc  chiefly  engaged  in  hunt- 


'l-i.,. 


THE  RIVER  ST.  JOHN. 


327 


ing  and  fishing.  They  are  a  good-looking  race,  speak  English 
fluently,  and  are  the  followers  of  a  Roman  Catholic  priest,  who 
lives  among  them,  and  officiates  in  a  small  chapel  which  was 
built  by  the  Jesuits  at  an  early  day.  This  society  is  said  to 
be  one  of  the  most  ivcalthy  in  the  Province.  The  chief  of  the 
village  is  one  Louis  Beir.  lie  lives  in  a  vdry  comfortable  and 
.well-furnished  house,  is  rather  a  handsome  man,  dresses  in 
a  half-savage  manner,  and  while  lie  offers  his  visitor  a  comfort- 
able chair,  he  invariably  seats  himself  upon  the  floor  in  the 
true  Indian  fashion. 

Frederickton  is  at  the  head  of  the  stoaml)oat  navigation,  and 
distant  from  St.  John  ninety  miles.  Between  these  two  places 
there  runs  a  morning  and  evening  boat,  and  the  summer  travel 
is  quite  e.xten  ive.  Frodorickton  contains  about  five  thousand 
inhabitants,  composed  of  Irish,  Scotch,  and  English.  It  dis- 
plays three  principal  streets,  running  north  and  south,  and 
some  half  dozen  hamlsome  public  buildings,  including  an  Epis- 
copal church,  after  the  Tuscan  order,  a  court-house,  and  a  col- 
lege. The  town  is  situated  on  a  level  plain,  and  its  suburbs 
arc  made  beautiful  by  the  number  of  rural  residences  which 
attract  the  eye  in  every  direction.  The  clia  oad  poplar  both 
8(10111  to  flourish  here,  and  add  much  to  the  pict"resqucneas  of 
the  place  and  vicinity.  The  business  of  Frede.  ■  .vton  ii  only 
of  a  second-rate  character,  and  it  has  become  what  it  U,  merely 
from  tlio  fact  that  it  is  the  seat  of  government.  This  fact  has 
also  had  a  tendency  to  collect  a  good  society  in  the  placi',  and 
its  "  ton,"  though  in  a  small  way,  have  bet  /i  disposed  to  cut  a 
dash.  The  "mother  rarlianient,"  I  believe,  has  recently 
talked  much  about  removing  tho  seat  of  government  to  St. 
John,  and  the  lovers  of  Frederickton  arc  sorry  and  a  little 
angry  at  the  jiossibility  of  such  a  change. 

The  city  of  St.  John  staiuls  at  the  mouth  of  tho  river  of  ihat 
name,  and  is  also  laved  by  tho  waters  of  tho  Bay  of  Fuik^v. 
I  hate  cities,  but  suppose  that  1  must  stop  a  moment  in  the  one 
alluded  to.  It  is  a  luisiness  place,  planted  among  rocks,  con- 
tains some  twenty  thousand  inhabitants,  (tv>'o-thirds  of  whom  are 
Irish,)  and  in  this  port,  at  tho  present  time,  ia  moored  a  fleet 


'r"'%  ll 


■  .^. 


'11 


1*^^-^-. 


\j': 


4v 

V 


328 


THK  RIVER  ST.  JOHN. 


of  two  hi  ndred  ships.     Its  public  buildings  are  numerous,  the 
jGnest  of  which  are  the  court-house,  an  Episcopal  church  of  the 
Doric  order,  another  after  the  Gothic,  and  a  Presbyterian 
church  after  the  Corinthian  order.     The  city  is  defended  by  a 
fortress,  which  presents  a  handsome  appearance  as  you  ap- 
proach the  port.     The  merchants  of  the  place  are  chiefly  em- 
ployed in  the  square-timber  trade,  and  have,  heretofore,  doup, 
an  extensive  business.     This  trade,  however,  I  am  inclined  to 
believe,  is  rapidly  running  out.     On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
St.  John  River  is  a  picturesque  point  or  hill,  called  the  Carlton 
Hill.     It  is  surmounted  by  a  massive  block-house,  and  com- 
mands an  extensive  view  of  the  Bay  of  Fandy,  the  spring  tidos 
of  which  rise  to  the  height  of  sixty  feet.     Before  leaving  tht 
St.  John  liiver,  I  must  pay  a  passing  compliment  to  the  Sal- 
mon and  Tobique  rivers,  which  are  among  its  most  charming 
tributaries.     The  first  abounds  in  salmon,  but  the  second  in 
salmon  and  much  beautiful  scMuery,  having  a  number  of  falls, 
gorges,  and  narrows,  which  arc  ..nsurpassed.     At  the  mouth  of 
the  Tobique,  too,  is  situated  a  village  of  t>vo  or  three  hundred 
intelligent  and  inoffensive  Milicito  Indians,  and  a  few  days 
that  I  spent  with  a  couple  of  these  in  their  canoe,  taking 
sketches,  killing  trout,  trying  for  salmon,  and  listening  to  their 
stories,  were  among  the  happiest  I  ever  experienced.    The 
Tobique  has  its  source  in  a  spring-lake,  and  its  two  most  pic- 
turesque features  arc  the  lied  Itapida,  so  called  from  ihe  sand- 
stone over  which  it  runs,  and  a  place  called   The  Narrows, 
which  is  a  chasm  nearly  a  mile  long,  and  rendered  exceedingly 
charming  by  a  happy  blending  of  the  hemlock,  pine?,  spruce- 
cedar,  and  birch  trees,  interspersed  with  hoary  lichens,     '.riic 
Indians  alluded  to,  havo  a  Reservation  of  good  land  on  this 
river,  consisting  of  sixteen  hundred  acres  ;  and  on  questioning 
the  oldest  man  of  the  tribe  about  his  national  history,  all  that 
I  could  learn  was,  that  they  once  lived  on  the  Rcstigonchc. 


THE   PENOBSCOT  RIVER. 


One  week  ago  I  was  fighting  ■^ith  the  musquetos  and  black 
flies,  on  the  head-Avaters  of  the  Penobscot,  and  now  that  I  am 
upon  the  ocean  once  more,  I  fancy  that  my  feelings  are  allied  to 
those  of  an  old  moose  that  I  lately  saw  stfinding  in  a  moun- 
tain lake,  with  the  water  up  to  his  lips.  The  noble  rivei* 
which  I  have  mentioned,  is  all  my  fancy  painted  it,  and  in 
sp'te  of  its  insect  inhabitants,  I  shall  ever  remember  it  with 
pleasure. 

The  length  of  this  stream  from  the  mouth  of  its  bay  to  where 
its  principal  branches  come  together,  is  about  one  hundred  and 
forty  miles  ;  from  this  junction,  to  the  fountain  head  of  the 
west  branch,  the  distance  is  supposed  to  bo  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,  wliilo  the  cast  branch  is  probably  only  one  hundred 
miles  in  length.  Both  of  these  streams  rise  in  the  midst  of  a 
mountain  wilderness,  looming  above  which  is  old  Katahden, 
the  loftiest  mountain  in  Maine,  elder  brother  to  Mount  Wash- 
ington, in  New  Hampshire,  and  it  towers  into  the  sky  so 
grandly,  that  nearly  all  the  people  who  inhabit  the  northern 
part  of  Maine  look  upon  it  as  a  familiar  friend.  The  two 
leading  branches  of  the  Penobscot  run  through  a  mountainous 
region,  abounding  in  rapids  and  waterfalls.  Among  them  arc 
the  Grand  Falls,  so-called,  which  arc  fifty  feet  high  ;  Gordon's 
Fall,  which  is  twenty-five  feet  high  ;  and  the  Slugundy  Falls, 
consisting  of  a  great  number  of  picturesque  schutos  and  rapids. 
And  then,  upon  some  of  the  other  tributaries  of  the  Penobscot 
arc  to  bo  found  immense  bogs,  which  have  been  poetically- 
termed  *'  Oceans  of  Moss,"  and  are  noted  for  their  desolate 


-  M 


330 


THE  PENOBSCOT  RIVER. 


and  lonely  appearance.  One  of  these,  lying  near  the  source 
of  the  Mattawamkeg,  is  said  to  be  fifteen  miles  long,  upon 
which,  in  the  olden  times,  a  great  battle  is  said  to  have  been 
fought  between  the  Penobscot  and  Mohawk  Indians,  and  in 
which  were  found,  a  few  years  ago,  the  remains  of  slain  war- 
riors, in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation.  The  aborigines  mani- 
fested their  affection  for  this  river  by  giving  it  no  less  than  three 
names,  characteristic  of  its  diverse  peculiarities,  viz.,  Penob- 
scot, or  Rocky  River ;  Baam-tu-guai-took,  or  Broad  Water ; 
and  Gim-sit-i-cooJc,  or  Smooth  Water.  The  soil  of  this  region, 
generally  speaking,  is  good,  but  remains  in  its  original  wild- 
ness.  Its  stationary  inhabitants  are  few  and  far  between  ;  but 
it  gives  employment  to  about  three  thousand  lumbermen.  They 
spend  the  winter  wielding  the  axe  in  the  forests,  and  the  spring 
and  summer  in  driving  down  the  stream  logs  which  they  have 
prepared  fur  tl'o  saw-mill?,  which  are  mostly  located  on  the 
lower  part  of  the  Penobscot.  Nine  months  in  the  year  they 
labor  without  ceasing,  but  usually  appropriate  to  themselves  a 
play  spell  of  three  months,  which  is  the  entire  autumn.  They 
are  a  young  and  powerfully  built  race  of  men,  mostly  New 
Englandors,  generally  unmarried,  and,  though  rude  in  their 
manner,  and  intemperate,  are  quite  intelligent.  They  seem  to 
have  a  passion  for  their  wild  and  toilsome  life,  and,  judging 
from  their  dresses,  I  should  think  possess  a  fine  eye  for  the 
comic  and  fantastic.  The  entire  apparel  of  an  individual 
usually  consists  of  a  pair  of  gray  pantaloons  and  two  red  llan- 
nel  shirts,  a  pair  of  long  boots,  and  a  woollen  covering  for  the 
head,  and  all  these  things  are  worn  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
The  lioad-C'  cy'w^  alluded  to,  when  first  purchased,  is  what 
might  l»e  called  a  hat,  Iji  t  the  wearers  invariably  take  particu- 
lar pai;:;}  to  transform  tuo  article  into  such  queer  slia[)os  as  to 
render  it  indescribable.  Sometimes  they  take  the  crown  and 
tie  it  in  the  shape  of  a  fool's  cap,  and  sometimes  they  trim  the 
rims  with  a  jack-knife  into  many  different  fashions.  Their 
wages  vary  from  twenty  to  thirty  dollars  per  month,  and  they 
are  chielly  employed  by  the  lumber  merchants  of  Eaugor,  who 
furnish  them  with  the  necessary  supplies. 


THE  PENOBSCOT  RIVER. 


831 


The  Penobscot  is  unquestionably  the  most  fruitful  lumber 
river  in  the  United  States,  and  its  pine  and  hemlock  forests 
seem  yet  to  be  inexhaustible;  and  the  State  of  Maine  is  in- 
debted to  tiie  lumber  business  for  many  of  its  beautiful  cities 
and  towns. 

From  the  Forks  of  the  Penobscot  to  Bangor,  the  distance  is 
about  sixty  miles.  This  portion  of  the  river  is  nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  Avidc.  The  banks  are  rather  low  and  level,  and 
somewhat  cultivated.  The  water  is  deep  and  clear,  and  the 
current  strong.  Generally  speaking,  the  scenery  of  the  river 
is  not  remarkable,  and  were  it  not  for  the  numerous  islands,  it 
might  be  considered  tame,  by  the  lover  of  a  mountain  land. 
The  islands  alluded  to,  however,  are  exceedingly  beautiful. 
Covered  as  they  arc  with  venerable  elms,  and  containing  no 
underbrush,  but  a  continuous  plot  of  green,  they  have  all  the 
appearance  of  cultivated  parks.  The  stage  route  from  Wood- 
stock, after  reaching  the  Penobscot,  continues  along  the  eastern 
bank,  and  as  the  coaches  are  comfortable,  and  the  horses  good, 
the  ride  is  quite  pleasant.  The  principal  village,  of  which  tliere 
are  four,  is  Old  Town.  It  is  a  busy  little  place,  and  the  pre- 
sent termination  of  a  railroad  from  Bangor,  which  is  twelve 
miles  distant.  Directly  opposite  Old  Town  is  a  small  island, 
where  resides  a  remnant  of  the  Penobscot  Indians.  They  num- 
ber some  four  hundrtd  souls,  and  are  just  sufficiently  civilized 
to  lead  a  very  miserable  sort  of  life. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  Bangor.  It  is  a  well  built  and  iiand- 
somc  city,  eighty  nulos  from  the  ocean,  and  contains  about 
eight  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  at  the  head  of  tide  water 
navigation,  and  has  a  good  harbor,  where  I  counted,  from  ovj 
point,  nearly  two  Inuidrcd  sails.  The  principal  article  of  tr  ido 
is  lumber,  which  is  distinguished  for  its  good  qualities.  A  /  the 
licaviest  merchants  arc  engaged  in  the  lumber  trade,  and  dmost 
overybody  de:'ls  in  it  to  a  limited  extent.  A  few  thousand 
sliiugU's  will  pay  your  .tailor  for  a  coat,  a  few  loads  of  plank 
will  settle  your  account  with  the  butcher,  and  buntlles  of  clap- 
boards are  ghuiiy  received  by  the  gro(,'er,  in  exchange  for  his 
sugar  and  tea. 


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THE  PENOBSCOT  RIYEB. 


With  the  people  of  Sanger  I  was  very  much  pleased.  Their 
manners  and  habits  are  stamped  with  the  true  New  England 
character ;  they  mind  their  own  business,  and  are  distinguished 
for  their  intelligence,  virtue  and  hospitality. 

The  distance  from  Bangor  from  the  ocean  is  eighty  miles. 
For  twenty  miles,  the  river  averages  three  quarters  of  a  mile  in 
width,  when  it  gradually  widens  into  an  expansive  bay  or  gulf. 
The  water  is  deep,  always  covered  with  vessels,  and  abounds  in 
salmon,  which  are  taken  only  with  the  net.  The  shores  are 
hilly  and  well  cultivated,  and  the  towns  of  Bucksport,  Frank- 
fort, Belfast,  and  Tbomaston,  as  you  pass  them,  present  each  a 
thriving  and  pleasant  appearance. 


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MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBECK  RIVER. 


1      i- 


MoosBHKAD  Lake  is  the  largest  and  the  wildest  in  New 
England.  It  lies  in  the  central  portion  of  the  State  of  Maine, 
and  distant  from  the  ocean  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  "liles. 
Its  length  is  fifty  miles,  and  its  width  from  five  to  fifteen.  It 
is  embosomed  among  a  brotherhood  of  mountains,  whose  high- 
est peak  has  been  christened  with  the  beautiful  name  of 
Katahden.  This  mountain  is  twenty  miles  from  the  Lake,  is 
supposed  to  be  six  thousand  feet  high,  and  commands  an  unin- 
terrupted view  of  the  two  great  valleys  of  the  Penobscot  and 
Kennebeck.  The  ascent  to  the  top  is  precipitous  and  rugged, 
but  when  attained,  is  found  to  consist  of  an  area  of  perhaps 
one  thousand  acres  of  level  land,  resting  on  a  granite  founda- 
tion. In  former  times  the  Indians  were  fearful  of  hunting 
upon  this  mountain,  because  it  was  thought  to  be  the  abode  of 
Matahonda  or  the  author  of  Evil.  All  of  these  northern  moun- 
tains, excepting  Katahden,  which  is  woodless  on  top,  from  base 
to  summit,  are  covered  with  a  dense  forest,  in  which  the  pine  is 
by  far  the  most  abundant.  Moosehead  is  the  grand  centre  of 
a  vast  wilderness  region,  whose  principal  denizens  are  wild 
beasts.  During  the  summer  months,  its  tranquil  waters  remain 
in  unbroken  solitude,  unless  some  scenery-hunting  pilgrim,  like 
myself,  happens  to  steal  along  its  shores  in  his  birchen  canoe. 
But  in  the  winter  the  case  is  very  difierent,  for  then,  all  a^ong 
its  borders,  may  be  heard  the  sound  of  the  axe,  wielded  by  a 
thousand  men.  Then  it  is  that  an  immense  quantity  of  logs 
are  cut,  which  are  manufactured  into  lumber  at  the  extensive 
mills  down  the  Kennebeck,  which  is  the  only  outlet  of  the  lake. 


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MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KET7NEBEC  RIVER. 


A  winter  at  Moosehcad  must  be  attended  with  much  that  is 
rare,  and  wihl,  and  exciting,  not  only  to  the  wealthy  proprietor 
wli  )  has  a  hundred  men  to  supLiintend,  but  even  to  the  toiling 
chopper  himself.  Look  at  a  single  specimen  of  the  gladdening 
scenes  enacted  in  that  forest  world.  It  is  an  awful  night,  the 
winds  wailing,  the  snow  falling,  and  the  forests  making  a  moan. 
Before  you  is  a  spacious,  but  rudely  built  log  cabin,  almost 
covered  with  snow.  But  now,  above  the  shriek  of  the  storm, 
and  the  howl  of  the  wolf,  you  hear  a  long,  loud  shout,  from  a 
score  of  human  mouths.  You  enter  the  cabin,  and  lo,  a  merry 
band  of  noble  men,  some  lying  on  a  buft'alo-robe,  and  some 
seated  upon  a  log,  while  the  huge  fire  before  them  reveals  every 
feature  and  wrinkle  of  their  countenances,  and  makes  a  picture 
of  the  richest  coloring.  Now  the  call  is  for  a  song,  and  a  young 
man  sings  a  song  of  Scotland,  which  is  his  native  land  ;  a  mug 
of  cider  then  goes  round,  after  which  an  old  pioneer  clears  his 
throat  for  a  hunting  legend  of  the  times  of  old ;  now  the  cun- 
ning jest  is  heard,  and  peals  of  hearty  laughter  shake  the  build- 
ing ;  and  now  a  soul-stirring  speech  is  delivered  in  favor  of 
Henry  Clay.  The  fire-place  is  again  replenished,  when,  with  a 
happy  and  contented  mind,  each  woodman  retires  to  his  couch, 
to'sleep,  and  to  dream  of  his  wife  and  children,  or  of  the  buxom 
damsel  whom  he  loves. 

Tlie  number  of  logs  which  these  men  cut  ip  a  single  winter, 
is  almost  incredible,  and  the  business  of  conveying  them  to  the 
lake  upon  the  snow  gives  employment  to  a  great  many  addi- 
tional men  and  their  oxen.  Ihe  conscf^uence  is,  that  large 
quantities  of  flour,  potatoes,  pork,  and  hay,  are  consumed ;  and 
as  these  things  are  mostly  supplied  by  the  farmers  of  the  Ken- 
nebcck,  winter  is  the  busiest  season  of  the  year  throughout  the 
region.  When  the  lake  is  released  from  its  icy  fetters  in  the 
spring,  a  new  feature  of  the  logging  business  comes  into  opera- 
tion, which  is  called  rafting.  A  large  raft  contains  about  eigh- 
teen thousand  logs,  and  covers  a  space  of  some  ten  acres.  In 
towing  them  to  Kennebeck,  a  small  steamboat  is  employed, 
which,  when  seen  from  the  summit  of  a  hill,  looks  like  a  living 
creature  struggling  with  a  mighty  incubus.    But  the  most  pic- 


HOOSEHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVER. 


335 


,/*"S     '  ■ 


turesque  thing  connected  with  this  business  is  a  floating  log- 
cabin,  callca  a  Raft-IIouse,  which  ever  attends  a  raft  on  its  way 
to  the  river.  During  the  summer,  as  before  stated,  Moosehead 
Lake  is  i  perfect  solitude,  for  the  "  log-chopper"  has  become  a 
"log driver"  on  the  Kennebeck — the  littl(>  steamer  having  been 
moored  in  its  sheltc  ing  bay,  near  the  at  the  south  end 

of  the  lake,  and  the  toiling  oxen  bee  U     1  to  enjoy  their 

summer  Sabbath  on  the  farm  of  their 

The  islands  of  Moosehead  Lake,  o  are  only  four: 

Moose  and  Deer  Islands  at  the  soutlicru  extremity,  Sugar 
Island  in  the  large  eastern  bay,  and  Farm  Island  in  a  north- 
western direction  from  that.  All  of  those  are  covered  with 
beautiful  groves,  but  the  tinu  is  not  far  distant  when  they  will 
be  cultivated  farms.  Trout  are  the  principal  fish  that  flourish 
in  its  waters,  and  may  be  caught  at  any  time  in  great  abun- 
dance.    And  thereby  hangs  a.  fish  story. 

It  was  the  sunset  hour,  and  with  one  of  my  companions,  I 
had  gone  to  a  rocky  ledge  for  the  purpose  of  trying  my  luck. 
Our  bait  was  squirrel  meat,  and  I  was  the  first  to  throw  the 
line.  It  had  hardly  reached  the  Avater,  before  I  had  the  plea- 
sure of  striking  and  securing  a  two  pound  trout.  This  threw 
my  friend  into  a  perfect  fever  of  excitement,  so  that  he  was 
everlastingly  slow  in  cutting  up  the  squirrel ;  and  it  may  be 
readily  supposed  that  I  was  somewhat  excited  myself;  so  I 
snatched  the  animal  out  of  his  hands,  and  with  my  teeth,  made 
a  number  of  good  baits.  The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter 
was,  that  in  less  than  forty  minutes  we  had  caught  nearly 
seventy  pounds  of -salmon  trout.  But  the  fish  of  Moosehead 
are  not  to  be  compared  with  those  of  Iloricon  in  point  of  deli- 
cacy, though  they  are  very  largo,  and  very  abundant.  The 
reason  of  this  is,  that  its  waters  arc  not  remarkably  clear,  and 
a  good  deal  of  its  bottom  is  muddy.  Moose  Ilivcr,  which  is  tho 
principal  tributary  of  the  Lake,  is  a  narrow,  deep,  and  pictur- 
esque stream,  where  may  be  caught  the  common  trout,  weighing 
from  one  to  three  pounds. 

In  this  portion  of  Maine  every  variety  of  forest  game  may 
be  found ;  but  the  principal  kinds  are  the  gray  wolf,  the  black 


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WnSTIR.N.Y.  14SI0 

(716)  172-4903 


336 


MOOSBHEAD  LAKB  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVER. 


bear,  the  deer,  and  the  moose.  Winter  is  the  appropriate  sea- 
son for  their  capture,  when  they  afford  a  deal  of  sport  to  the 
hunter,  and  furnish  a  variety  of  food  to  the  forest  laborers. 
Deer  are  so  very  plenty,  t  lat  a  certain  resident  tuld  me,  that, 
in  the  deep  snow  of  last  winter,  he  caught  some  dozen  of  them 
alive,  and  having  cut  a  slit  m  their  ears,  let  them  go,  that  they 
might  recount  to  their  kindred  their  marvellous  escape.  But 
the  homeliest  animal,  the  most  abundant,  and  the  best  for  eat- 
ing, is  the  moose.  I  did  not  kill  one,  but  spent  a  night  with 
an  old  hunter  who  did.  During  the  warm  summer  night,  these 
animals,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  clear  of  the  black  fly,  are 
in  the  habit  of  taking  to  the  water,  where,  with  nothing  but 
their  heads  in  sight,  they  remain  for  hours.  It  was  the  evening 
of  one  of  those  cloudless  nights  whose  memory  can  never  die. 
We  were  alone  far  up  the  Moose  River,  and  it  seemed  to  me, 
"  we  were  the  first  that  ever  burst  into  that  forest  sea."  On, 
board  a  swan-like  birch  caroe  wc  embarked,  and  with  our  rifles 
ready,  we  carefully  and  silently  descended  the  stream.  How 
can  I  describe  the  lovely  pictures  that  we  passed  ?  Now  we 
peered  into  an  ink-black  recess  in  the  centre  of  a  group  of  elms, 
where  a  thousand  ^e-flies  were  revelling  in  joy ; — and  now  a 
solitary  duck  shot  out  into  the  stream  from  its  hidden  home, 
behind  a  fallen  and  decayed  tree ;  now  we  watched  the  stars 
mirrored  in  the  sleeping  waves,  and  now  we  listened  to  the  hoot 
of  the  owl,  the  drum  of  the  partridge,  the  song  of  a  distant 
water-fall,  or  the  leap  of  a  robber-trout.  It  was  not  far  from 
midnight  when  my  companion  whispered,  "  Hush,  hush  !"  and 
pointed  to  a  dim  spot  some  hundred  yards  below.  The  first 
chance  was  allotted  me,  so  I  took  the  best  aim  I  could,  and 
fired.  I  heard  the  ball  skip  along  the  water,  and  on  coming 
near,  found  my  mark  to  be  only  a  smooth  rock.  Two  hours 
more  passed  on,  one  small  mo'^^e  was  killed,  and  at  day-break 
we  were  in  our  cabin  fast  asleep.  As  to  deer  hunting  there  is 
hardly  a  lake  in  Maine  that  does  not  afford  the  rarest  sport. 
The  common  mode  is  to  "  drive"  the  animals,  until  they  take 
to  the  water,  and  then  follow  them  in  a  canoe.  To  succeed  in 
this  sport  you  must  have  well  trained  dogs  and  Indian  or  half- 
breed  oanoe  men. 


MOOSEHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVER 


337 


The  principal  outlet  of  Moosehead  Lake  is  the  Kennebec, 
•which  now  "demands  my  song."  It  is  the  second  river  in 
Maine,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  country.  Its  name 
is  derived  from  that  of  a  famous  aboriginal  chief,  who  was 
called  Kannahi«,  and  -whose  dominions  extended  all  along  its 
course  ;  and  a  journey  down  its  charming  valley  borrows  in- 
terest from  the  fact  that  the  traitor,  Arnold,  before  his  dis- 
grace, led  through  this  ■wilderness  his  ill-fated  but  romantic 
expedition,*which  ended  in  defeat  beneath  the  walls  of  Quebec. 
Instead  of  w^atcring  a  wilderness,  as  I  had  supposed,  all  along 
its  valley,  for  over  a,  hundred  miles,  are  fertile  and  extensive 
farms,  with  here  and  there  a  thriving  village,  inhabited  by  an 
intelligent  and  industrious  people.  Its  principal  tributary  is 
Dead  River,  and  the  spot  at  the  junction  of  the  two  is  called 
the  Forks.  The  cultivated  region  stops  here,  and"  between  this 
point  and  Moosehead,  the  distance  is  twenty-five  miles,  and  this 
portion  is  yet  a  forest  wilderness. 

The  principal  attraction  m,  the  Forks  is  a  tavern,  kept 
by  one  Burnham,  who  is  a  capital  fellow  to  guide  the  lover  of 
Nature,  or  tho  trout  fisherman,  to  Moxy  Fall  or  Nameless 
Lake,  which  are  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  Tho  mountains 
about  here  are  quite  lofty,  and  exceedingly  picturesque,  abound- 
ing in  the  maple,  the  oak,  the  pine  <  nd  hemlock.  Emptying 
into  the  Kennebec,  a  few  miles  north  of  the  Forks,  is  a  superb 
mountain  stream,  named  Moxy,  af.er  an  Indian  who  was  there 
drowned  many  years  ago.  Winding  for  a  long  distance  among 
wild  ravines,  and  eternally  singing  to  tho  woo8s  a  trumpet 
song,  it  finally  makes  a  sudden  plunge  into  a  chasm  more  than 
a  hundred  feet  in  depth.  Tho  perpendicular  rocks  on  either 
side  rise  to  an  immense  height,  their  tops  crowned  with  a 
"  peculiar  diadem  of  trees,"  and  their  crevices  filled  up  with 
dark-green  verdure,  whence  occasionally  issues,  hanging  grace- 
fully in  the  air,  beautiful  festoons  of  tho  ivy,  and  clusters  of 
the  mountain  blue-bell.  Tho  depth  of  tho  pool  was  never  told, 
and  its  waters  wash  against  the  granite  walls  in  a  perpetual 
gloom.  On  one  occasion  I  visited  it  when  there  was  a  high 
freshet,  and  saw  what  I  could  hardly  have  believed  from  a  de- 
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HOOSEHBAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBBO  RIVBB. 


scription.  I  stood  on  an  elevated  point,  in  front  of  the  Fall, 
when  my  eye  rested  upon  an  immense  log,  some  sixty  feet  long, 
coming  down  the  foaming  stream  with  all  the  fury  of  a  madr 
dened  steed ;  presently  it  reached  the  precipice,-^then  cleaved 
its  airy  pathway  down  into  the  hell  of  waters, — was  completely 
out  of  sight  for  at  least  two  minutes ;  then,  like  a  creature  en- 
dowed with  life,  it  shot  upward  again,  clear  out  of  the  water, 
made  another  less  desperate  plunge,  and  quietly  pursued  its 
course  into  the  Kennebec.  * 

In  speaking  of  Nameless  Lake,  it  is  necessary  that  I  should 
be  a  little  egotistical.  It  is  a  fairy-liko  sheet  of  pure  water  in 
the  heart  of  the  mountain  wilderness,  only  about  a  mile  in 
length,  but  full  of  trout.  The  proprietor  was  of  the  party  that 
accompanied  me  on  my  first  visit.  "While  approaching  it,  the 
remark  was  'made  that  it  was  yet  without  a  name ;  when  it  was 
agreed  that  it  should  be  christened  after  that  individual  who 
should  on  that  day  throw  the  most  successful  fly.  As  fortune' 
woulJ  have  it,  the  honor  was  :^varded  to  me;  and  on  a  guide- 
boprd  in  the  forest,  three  miles  from  Burnham's,  may  be  seen 
the  figure  of  a  hand,  and  the  words  "  Lake  Lanman."  There 
ftands  my  written  name,  exposed  "to  the  peltings  of  the  piti- 
less storm ;"  and  in  a  few  years,  at  the  longest,  it  will  be  washed 
away,  and  thp  Vee  which  supports  it  be  mingling  with  the  dust. 

Not  to  atf  c  description  of  the  scenery  of  the  Kenne- 

beck,  which  t .  a  J  be  faithfully  given  only  by  the  pictures  of  a 
Cole  ■■?  Durand,  I  will  take  my  readers  down  its  valley,  and 
tell  them  what  I  know  respecting  its  beautiful  villages. 

Tho  first  in  order  is  Bingham,  situated  on  a  fertile  "  inter- 
val," surrounded  with  picturesque  hills,  charming  and  quiet  as  a 
summer  day,  and  containing  within  the  jurisdiction  of  its  town  an 
uncommon^  fine  farm,  whoso  proprietor  manufactures  large 
quantities  of  maple  sugar.  This  town,  by  tho  way,  was  named 
after  William  Bingham,  whoso  landed  estate  in  the  wilds  of  Maine 
amounted  to  upwards  of  two  millions  of  acres,  and  among  whose 
descendants  are  two  daughters,  who  married  the  Brothers  Baring 
of  London.  Solon  is  tho  next  village  in  the  Kennebec  valley, 
remarkable  for  nothing  but  Caritunk  Falls,  which  arc  twenty 


HOOSEHBAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVER. 


889 


feet  high,  and  run  through  a  gorge  fifty-feet  wide.    Here  I 
saw  some  twenty  men  "  driving"  the  logs  that  had  been  lodged 
all  along  the  river  when  it  was  low.     It  is  a  laborious  life  Avhich 
these  men  lead,  but  they  receive  good  pay,  and  meet  with  many 
interesting  adventures.     They  generally  have  the  soul  to  enjoy 
fine  scenery,  and  therefore  demand  the  respect  of  the  intelligent 
traveller.    Anson,  though  in  the  valley  of  the  Kennebec,  is 
situated  on  Seven  Mile  Brook,  and  is  a  flourishing  business 
place.     From  its  neighboring  hills  may  be  seen  the  sky-piercing 
peaks  of  Mount  Blue,  Saddleback,  Bigelow  and  Mount  Abra- 
ham, which  are  the  guardian  spirits  of  Maine.     The  town  is 
distinguished  for  its  agricultural  enterprise,  and  the  abundance 
of  its  wheat,  having  actually  produced  more  than  is  reported 
from  any  other  town  in  the  State.     Norridgwock,  so  named 
after  a  tribe  of  Indians,  is  a  charming  little  village,  and  asso- 
ciated with  a  celebrated  Indian  chief  named  Bomazcen,  and 
also  with  the  self-sacrificing  labors  of  Father  Sebastian  Rallc, 
a  devoted  and  learned  Jesuit  from  France,  who  perished  on  this 
spot  by  the  hands  of  British  soldiers,  falling  dead  at  the  foot  of 
a  cross  he  had  erected  in  the  village  over  which  he  ruled.    Not 
far  from  here  is  a  water-fall,  also  a  picturesque  bend  of  the 
Kennebec,  where  empties  Sandy  River,  upon  which  are  many 
extensive  farms.     Skowhcgan  is'a  thriving  village,  where  there 
are  fine  falls,  which  I  could  never  look  upon  without  thinking 
of  the  famous  Glen's  Falls,  in  New  York,  of  which  they  are  a 
counterpart,  though  on  a  smaller  scale.     Many  and  very  dear 
to  mo  are  my  recollections  of  its  "choice  bits"  of  scenery,  of 
the  fine  singing  I  there   heard,  of  the  acquaintances  there 
formed,  and  of  the  pleasant  literary  communings  which  were 
mine  in  company  with  one  of  the  best  and  most  intellectual  of 
women.     Waterville,  the  next  town  on  the  river,  is  the  seat  of 
a  Baptist  college,  and  the  head  of  navigation  on  account  of  the 
Ticonic  Falls.     It  is  the  centre  of  an  extensive  farming  district, 
which  fact,  together  with  the  literary  taste  of  its  people,  makes 
it  an  uncommonly  interesting  place.     Augusta,  the  capital  of 
tho  State,  is  also  on  the  Kennebec,  and  with  its  Stato  House, 
and  other  State  buildings,  its  admirably  conducted  hotels,  its 


V  ■  '-'1 


1'" 

'-I  ,    it- 


§ 


im 


340 


MOOSBHEAD  LAKE  AND  THE  KENNEBEC  RIVBR. 


commanding  churches,  its  large  bridge,  and  pleasant  residences, 
is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and  interesting  towns  in  the 
whole  of  New  England.  Hallowell,  two  miles  below  Augusta, 
was  once  a  great  place  for  business,  and  is  still  a  very  pleasant 
town,  though  unable  to  compete  with  its  rival,  the  capital.  Gar- 
diner, further  down,  is  a  famous  place  for  saw-mills ;  and  lum- 
bering I  look  upon  as  one  of  the  surest  kinds  of  business.  It 
contains  the  handsomest  church-building  in  the  State,  and  a 
number  of  fine  residences.  Bath  is  the  next  and  most  southern 
town  on  the  Kennebec ;  it  is  quite  a  large  place,  where  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  shipping  done,  and  is  now  in  a  flourishing  con- 
dition. The  sail  down  tho  river  from  here  is  a  most  delightful 
one,  for  the  eye  revels  over  a  succession  of  pleasant  farms,  quiet 
headlands,  solitary  islands,  and  vessels  of  every  kind,  passing 
up  and  down  t[ie  stream.  Even  to  the  present  day,  the  Ken- 
nebec abounds  in  salmon,  which  are  caught  with  nets  from  the 
first  of  May  till  midsummer.  To  take  them  with  the  hook  is 
fine  sport,  indeed,  and  for  the  manner  in  which  I  conquered  a 
solitary  individual,  I  refer  my  reader  to  a  certain  passage  in 
Scrope  on  Salmon  Fhldng.  Few  are  tho  rivers  that  I  love 
more  than  the  Kennebec,  and  very  dear  to  me  are  its  manifold 
associations. 


lETTEKS 


THE  AIJJIGHANY  MOUNTAINS; 


..  '»■ 


1 '  ■'  .'  ' 

fr*f!lii 

f4^' 

i^^fd>^ 

K 

■^i 

P¥^ 

iii 

i| 

^ 
f 

w 

,"'-( ^,-,|^!#tSBJ»; 

m\ 

'  '  r:^*'■•.it. 

'*-!>^ 


DAHLONEGA. 


The  Cherokee  vord  Dah-lon-e-ga  eigmfieB  the  place  of  yellow 
metal;  and  is  now  applied  to  a  small  hamlet  at  the  foot  of  the 
Alleghany  Mountains,  in  Lumpkin  county,  Georgia,  reputed  to 
be  the  wealthiest  gold  region  in  the  United  States.  It  is^  re- 
corded of  De  Soto  and  hif/  followers  that,  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, they  explored  this  entire  Southern  country  in  search  of 
gold,  and  unquestionahle  evidences  of  their  work  have  heen 
discovered  in  various  sections  of  the  State.  Among  these  tes- 
timonials may  he  mentioned  the  remains  of  an  old  furnace,  and 
other  works  for  mining,  which  have  been  brought  to  light  by^ 
recent  explorations.  But  the  attent?on  of  our  own  people  was 
first  directed  to  this  region  while  yet  the  Cherokees  were  in 
possession  of  the  land,  though  the  digging  ,^  gold  was  not  made 
a  regular  business  until  after  they  had  beep  politely  banished 
by  the  General  Government.  As  soon  as  the  State  of  Georgia 
had  become  the  rightful  possessor  of  the  soil  (according  to  law) 
much  contention  and  excitement  arose  among  the  people  as  to 
who  should  have  the  best  opportunities  for  making  fortunes; 
and,  to  settle  all  difficulties,  it  was  decided  by  the  State  Legis- 
lature that  the  country  should  be  surveyed  and  divided  into 
lots  of  forty  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres,  and  distributed 
to  the  people  by  lottery.  For  several  years  subsequent  to  that 
period,  deeds  of  wrong  and  outrage  wore  practised  io  a  very 
great  extent  by  profligate  adventurers  who  flocked  to  this  El 
Dorado.  In  the  year  1888,  however^  the  Government  estab- 
lished a  branch  Mint  at  this  place,  since  which  time  a  much 
better  8(ate  of  things  has  existed  in  Dahlonega. 


i'^-y 


\[  i  .|.«K^iifci. 


844 


DAHLONEQA. 


The  appearance  of  this  village,  though  not  more  than  a  dozen 
years  old,  is  somewhat  antiquated,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
houses  are  chiefly  built  of  logs,  and,  having  never  been  painted 
are  particularly  dark  and  dingy,  but  uncommonly  picturesque 
in  form  and  location.     The  population  of  the  place  is  about 
five  hundred.     It  is  located  upon  a  hill,  and  though  the  country 
around  is  quite  uneven,  having  been  deeply  ravined  by  atmos- 
pheric agents,  when  viewed  !n  connection  with  the  mountains, 
(some  ten  or  fifteen  miles  off,)  which  seem  to  hem  it  in  on  three 
sides,  presents  the  appearance  of  a  pit  to  a  magnificent  amphi- 
theatre.    On  approaching  Dahlonega  I  noticed  that  the  water- 
courses had  all  been  mutilated  with  the  spade  and  pickaxe,  and 
that  their  waters  were  of  a  deep  yellow ;  and  having  explored 
the  ^country  since  then,  I  find  that  such  is  the  condition  of  all 
the  streams  within  a  circuit  of  many  miles.     Large  brooks 
(and  even  an  occasional  river)  have  been  turned  into  a  new 
channel,  and  thereby  deprived  of  their  original  beauty.    And 
of  all  the  hills  in  the  vicinity  of  Dahlonega  which  I  have  visited 
I  have  not  seen  one  which  is  not  actually  riddled  with  shafts 
and  tunnels.     The  soil  is  of  a  primitive  character,  quite  yel- 
lowish in  color,  composed  of  sand  and  clay,  a:"\d  uncommonly 
easy  to  excavate  with  the  spade.     Heretofore  the  gold  ore  of 
Lumpkin  county  has  been  obtained  from  what  has  been  called 
the  deposit  beds,  but  the  miners  are  now  beginning  to  direct 
their  attention  to  the  veined,  ore,  which  is  supposed  to  be  very 
abundant  in  all  directions.     It  is  generally  found  in  quartz  and 
a  species  of  slate  stone.     The  gold  region  of  Georgia,  strictly 
speaking,  ia  confined  to  a  broad  belt,  which  runs  in  a  north- 
eastern and  southwestern  direction  from  Dahlonega,  which  may 
be  consid/ared  its  centre.    Several  auriferous  veins  traverse  the 
town,  and  it  is  common  after  a  rain  to  see  the  inhabitants  busily 
engaged  in  hunting  for  gold  in  the  streets.    That  huge  quanti- 
ties are  thus  accumulated  in  these  days  I  am  not  ready  to  be- 
lieve, whatever  may  have  been  done  in  former  years.    I  know 
not  that  any  very  remarkable  specimens  of  gold  ore  have  been 
found  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Dahlonega,  but  an  idea  of 
the  wealth  of  the  State  in  this  particular  may  be  gathered  from 


DABLONEOA. 


345 


>"1 


the  fact,  that  several  lumps  .have  heretofore  been  found  in  diffe-  ' 
rent  sections,  which  were  worth  from  five  hundred  to  one  thou- 
sand dollars.  More  valuable  specimens  have  been  fonnd  in 
North  Carolina ;  but  while  Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  and  Alabama 
have  all  produced  a  goodly  amount  of  gold,  I  have  heard  it 
conceded  that  Georgia  has  produced  the  largest  quantity  and 
decidedly  the  best  quality. 

And  now  with  regard  to  the  fortunes  that  have  been  made  in 
this  region.     They  are  very  few  and  far  between.     But,  by 
way  of  illustration,  I  will  give  two  or  three  -incidents  which 
have  come  to  my  knowledge.     In  passing,  however,  I  may 
repeat  the  remark  made  to  me  by  an  intelligent  gentleman, 
that  the  expenses  of  digging  out  the  gold  in  this  section  of 
country  have  ever  exceeded  the  gain  by  about  one  hundred  per 
cent.     Immense  amounts  of  labor  as  well  as  money  have  been  ex- 
pended, and  generally  speaking,  the  condition  of  the  people  has 
not  been  improved  ;  the  very  wealth  of  the  country  has  caused 
the  ruin  of  many  individuals.     The  following  story  is  a  matter 
of  popular  history.     After  the  State  Legislature  had  divided 
the  Cherokee  Purchase  into  lots  and  regularly  numbered  them, 
it  was  rumored  about  the  country  that  lot  No.  1052  was  a 
great  prize,  and  everybody  was  on  tiptoe  with  regard  to  its  dis- 
tribution by  the  proposed  lottery.    At  that  time  1052  figured 
in  the  dreams  of  every  Georgian,  and  those  figures  were  then 
far  more  popular  than  the  figures  54  40  have  been  in  these 
latter  d&ys.     Among  the  more  crazy  individuals  who  attended 
the  lottery  was  one  Mosely,  who  had  determined  either  to  draw 
the  much  talked  of  prize  or  purchase  it  of  the  winner^  even 
though  it  should  be  at  the  cost  of  his  entire  property,  which 
was  quite  large.    The  drawing  took  place,  and  1052  came  into 
the  possession  of  a  poor  farmer  named  Ellison.    Mosely  imme- 
diately mounted  his  horse  and  hastened  to  Ellison's  farm,  where 
he  found  the  child  of  fortune  following  his  plough.    The  would- 
be.  purchaser  made  known  the  object  of  bis  visit,  and  Ellison 
only  laujghed  at  the  impetuosity  of   his    impatient  friend. 
Ellison  said  he  was  not  anxious  to  sell  the  lot,  but  if  Mosely 
muMt  have  it,  he  might  have  it  for  $30,000.    Mosely  acceded 


m* 


.,t 


m 


^■\"¥- 


'*•. 
">-^ 

•*** 

'««i* 


PS 


il 


§i^ 


846 


DAHLONEGA. 


'iP- 

l<^i:  ':\ 

'' 

'  to  the  terms,  and  in  paying  for  the  lot  sacrificed  nfost  of  his 
landed  and  personal  property.  The  little  property  Trhich  was 
left  him  he  was  compelled  to  employ  in  working  his  mines ;  he 
labored  with  great  diligence  for  several  years,  but  he  could 
never  make  both  ends  meet,  for  his  mines  were  not  at  all  distin- 
guished for  their  richness.  In  process  of  time  he  was  compel- 
led to  sell  1052  for  what  it  would  bring,  and  having  squander- 
ed that  remnant  of  his  former  wealth,  he  left  the  country  for 
parts  unknown,  a  veritable  beggar.  But,  what  is  more  singu- 
lar than  all,  the  present  proprietor  of  1052  is  that  identical 
man  Ellison,  who  is  annually  realizing  a  handsome  sum  of 
money  from  the  newly-discovered  gold  ore  found  in  the  bowels 
of  his  lottery  lot. 

Another  instance  of  good  fortune,  unattended  with  any  alloy, 
is  as  follows:  Five  years  ago,  a  couple  of  brothers,  who  were 
at  work  upon  the  Georgia  railroad,  took  it  into  their  heads  to 
visit  Dahlonega  and  try  their  luck  in  the  mining  business. 
They  were  hard-working  Irishmen,  and  understood  the  science 
of  digging  to  perfection.  They  leased  one  or  two  lots  in  this 
vicinity,  and  are  now  reputed  to  be  worth  $15,000. 

And  now  that  it  has  come  into  my  mind,  I  will  mention 
another  lottery  anecdote,  which  was  related  to  me  by  an  old 
resident.  Byway  of  introduction,  however,  I  ought  here  to 
mention  that  this  region  is  famous  for  the  number  and  size  of 
its  rattlesnakes,  and  that  our  hero  had  an  utter  abhorrence  of 
the  reptile.  Among  those  who  obtained  prizes  at  the  great 
drawing,  before  alluded  to,  was  an  individual  from  the  southern 
part  of  the  State,  who  drew  a  lot  in  this  vicinity.  In  process 
of  time  he  came  to  the  north  to  explore  his  property,  and  had 
called  at  the  house  of  a  farmer  near  his  land,  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  a  guide.  In  conversing  with  the  farmer,  ho  took 
occasion  to  express  his  dislike  to  the  rattlesnake ;  whereupon 
the  farmer  concluded  that  he  would  attempt  a  speculation. 
Remembering  that  in  going  to  the  stranger's  land  he  might  (if 
he  chose  to  do  so)  pass  through  an  out-of-the-way  ravine  which 
abounded  in  the  dreaded  snake,  the  farmer  beckoned  to  the 
stranger,  and  they  took  their  way  towards  the  ravine;    After 


DAHLONEOA. 


347 


thej  bad  arrived  at  the  spot,  hardly  a  rod  did  the  pedestrians 
pass  without  hearing  the  hiss  of  a  snake  or  seeing  its  fiery 
tongue,  and  the  stranger  was  as  completely  frightened  as  any 
one  could  possibly  be  by  a  similar  cause.  In  his  despair  he 
turned  to  his  companion  and  said : 

"Are  snakes  as  plenty  as  this  all  over  the  country?" 

"  I  can't  say  about  that,  stranger,  but  one  of  my  neighbors 
killed  about  a  hundred  last  year,  and  I've  beam  tell  that  your 
land  is  very  rich  in  snakes." 

"Now  I  ain't  a  going  any  further  in  this  infernal  region,  and 
I  want  to  know  if  you  have  a  horse  that  you'll  give  me  for  my 
land — gold  ore,  snakes,  and  all." 

"I  have,  and  a  first-rate  horse  too." 

"  It's  a  bargain." 

On  the  following  morning,  the  stranger,  like  the  hero  of  a 
novel,  might  be  seen  mounted  on  a  Dahlonega  steed,  pursuing 
his  devious  pathway  along  a  lonely  road  towards  the  south  pole* 

Of  the  uncounted  gold  mines  which  are  found  in  this  region, 
the  most  fruitful  at  the  present  times  lies  about  twenty-five 
miles  from  here,  in  a  northerly  direction,  and  is  the  property 
of  Mr.  Lorenzo  Dow  Smith.  And  the  success  which  has  ever 
attended  Lorenzo  is  worth  recording.  In  a  conversation  that 
I  had  with  him  in  this  p'ace,  where  he  is  now  staying,  I  re- 
marked that  I  should  like  to  embody  his  history  in  a  paragraph 
of  my  note  book,  and  he  replied  to  me  as  follows: 

"I  was  born  in  Vermont;  I  came  into  this  Southern  country 
twenty-four  years  ago  as  a  clock-pedler,  where  I  drove  a  good 
business.  I  used  to  spend  my  summers  among  the  mountains 
of  the  Cherokee  country,  partly  for  the  purpose  of  keeping 
away  from  the  fever,  and  partly  with  a  view  of  living  over  again 
the  days  of  my  boyhood,  which  were  spent  among  the  Green 
Mountains.  I  made  some  money,  and  when  the  gold  fever 
commenced  I  took  it  and  went  to  speculating  in  gold  lots, 
though  I  spent  many  years  without  finding  lots  of  gold.  I 
associated  with  bear  hunters,  and  explored  every  corner  and 
stream  of  this  great  mountain  land,  away  to  the  north,  and 
have  seen- more  glorious  scenery  than  any  other  live  man.  I'm 
forty  years  old,  urmarried,  lovu  good  liquor,  and  go  in  for 


*f:'Mi 


I   1  iJjii  WW 


L<^ 


848 


DAHLONEGA. 


^ '  -rt**"!^^ 

!■  1.  ! 

■?;>    . 

i(  ■! 

-■*  '"'■i. 

'  '■';   ...            • 

"■**v> 

1    r 

"  % 

^i    * 

^  ;■■*  w 

|j'<-''^.i:1t 

v,,'l/ 

«.:'"^'1\  s 

^-1  *  ■ 

having  fun.  'Bout  four  years  ago,  it  came  into  my  thinking 
mug  that  there  must  be  plenty  of  gold  in  the  bed  of  Coosa 
creek,  ivhich  runs  into  Coosa  river.  I  traded  for  a  lot  there, 
and  went  to  work.  I  found  a  deposit,  gave  up  work,  and  went 
to  leasing  small  sections,  which  are  now  worked  by  a  good  many 
men,  and  give  me  a  decent  living.  I  have  had  all  sorts  of  luck 
in  my  day — good  luck  and  bad  luck.  When  I'm  prosperous  I 
always  hope  to  be  more  prosperous  still,  and  when  I  have  bad 
luck,  I  always  wish  for  worse  luck — if  it'll  only  come.  I  never 
allow  myself  to  be  disappointed.  The  longer  I  live  the  more 
anxious  am  I  to  do  some  good  to  my  fellow-men.  I've  passed 
the  blossom  of  my  life,  and  I  don't  expect  to  live  many  years 
longer ;  I  haven't  lived  as  I  ought  to  have  lived,  but  I  hope  it'll 
be  well  with  me  when  I  come  to  take  my  final  sleep.  But 
enough.  I'm  going  out  to  my  mine  on  a  visit  to-morrow,  and  if 
you'll  go  with  me,  I'll  show  you  some  real  Vermont  trout,  and 
mountain  peaks  whicli  would  shame  the  camel's  hump  of  old 
Yankee  land." 

I  did  not  accept  Lorenzo's  tempting  invitation,  but  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  he  was  an  original.  Some  of  the  scenery  to 
which  he  alluded  I  shall  visit  in  due  time. 

In  former  times,  as  before  intimated,  the  miners  of  this  region 
were  mostly  foreigners  and  an  abandoned  race,  but  the  principal 
deposits  and  veins  are  now  worked  by  native  Georgians,  who 
are  a  very  respectable  class  of  people.  Among  them  are  many 
young  men,  who  labor  hard  and  are  intelligent.  The  dangers 
of  mining  in  this  region  are  rather  uncommon,  owing  principally 
to  the  lightness  of  the  soil.  Many  of  th&  accidents  which  occur, 
however,  arc  the  result  of  carelessness ;  and  the  most  melan- 
cholly  one  I  have  heard  of  is  as  follows :  A  man  named  Hunt, 
together  with  his  son  and  another  man  named  Smith,  were 
digging  for  gold  on  the  side  of  a  neighboring  hill.  At  the  end 
of  a  tunnel,  which  was  some  thirty  feet  long,  they  excavated  a 
large  cave  or  hall,  which  they  had  neglected  to  support  in  the 
usual  manner.  They  apprehended  no  danger,  but  were  told  by 
a  neighbor  that  their  conduct  was  imprudent.  The  elder  Hunt 
thought  he  would  be  on  the  safe  side,  and  on  a  certain  afternoon 
went  into  the  woods  to  out  the  ueoe^sary  timber,  while  his  son 


DAHLONEGA. 


349 


and  Smith  continued  their  labors  in  the  cave.  Night  came  on, 
and  the  father,  having  accomplished  his  task,  retired  to  his 
home.  On  taking  his  seat  at  the  supper  table  it  came  into  his 
mind  that  his  son  and  Smith  were  somewhat  later  in  coming 
home  than  usual.  He  waited  awhile,  but  becoming  impatient, 
set  out  for  the  cave,  and,  on  reaching  it,  to  his  utter  astonish- 
ment and  horror,  he  found  that  the  roof  of  the  cave  had  fallen 
in.  The  alarm  was  given,  and  the  whole  village  was  assembled, 
to  extricate  the  unfortunate  miners,  and  by  the  aid  of  torches 
the  bodies  were  recovered.  The  boy  was  found  in  a  running 
attitude,  as  if  overtaken  while  endeavoring  to  escape,  and  the 
man  Smith  was  found  clinging  tu  a  single  post,  which  had  been 
vainly  used  to  prop  the  ceiling  of  the  cave. 

With  regard  to  the  means  employed  by  the  miners  I  have  but 
one  word  to  say.  The  deposit  gold  is  extracted  from  the  gravel 
by  means  of  a  simple  machine  called  a  rocker,  which  merely 
shifts  and  washes  out  the  metal.  The  vein  gold  is  brought  to 
light  by  means  of  what  is  called  a  pounding-mill,  which  raduces 
the  rock  to  the  consistency  of  sand,  when  the  ore  is  separated 
by  the  use  of  quicksilver.  In  this  particular  department  of 
their  business  the  Dahlonega  miners  confess  themselves  to  be 
comparatively  ignorant ;  and  what  proves  this  to  be  the  case  is 
the  fact,  that  some  of  their  ore  has  frequently  been  worked  over 
a  second  time  with  considerable  profit. 

But  the  prominent  attraction  of  Dahlonega,  I  have  not  yet 
touched  upon — I  allude  to  the  Mint  Establi%hnent.  The  build- 
ing itself,  which  is  quite  large,  has  a  commanding  appearance. 
It  was  erected  in  1837,  at  an  expense  of  $70,000,  and  the  ma- 
chinery which  it  contains  cost  330,000.  It  is  built  of  brick, 
but  stuccoed  so  as  to  resemble  stv>ne.  It  gives  employment  to 
nine  men,  who  receive  for  their  services,  collectively,  the  sum 
of  $12,000.  The  Superintendent,  who  also  acts  as  Treasurer, 
is  J.  F.  Cooper,  (son,  by  the  way,  of  the  famous  actof  of  that 
name ;)  the  Coiner  is  D.  II.  Mason,  who  has  a  very  interesting 
cabinet  of  minerals,  and  the  Assayer  is  J.  L.  Todd.  The 
Dahlonega  Branch  Mint  and  the  one  located  at  Charlottes- 
ville, North  Carolina,  are  the  only  ones  in  the  United  States 
which  coin  the  gold  on  the  very  spot  where  it  is  found.    The 


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350 


DAHLONEQA. 


m 


I 


New  Orleans  Branch,  as  -well  as  the  mother  Mint  in  Philadel- 
phia, are  chiefly  occupied  with  foreign  ores.  Of  the  two  first 
mentioned,  Dahlonega  has  thus  far  been  the  most  successful, 
the  coinage  in  one  year  having  amounted  to  $600,000.  At  the 
present  time,  however,  the  business  of  this  mint  is  said  to  be  on 
the  wane.  The  coinage  of  the  three  branch  Mints  mentioned 
above  is  uniform  with  that  of  the  mother  Mint,  and  it  is  all 
systematically  tested  there  for  approval.  It  thus  appears  that 
the  whole  establishment  is  a  branch  of  the  Treasury  Department 
of  the  United  States,  and  under  the  supervision  of  the  Secre- 
tary of  the  Treasury,  and  an  account  of  the  progress  and  con- 
dition of  the  bureau  is  annually  given  to  Congress. 

The  smallest  amount  of  gold  ore  received  at  the  Dahlonega 
Mint  by  law  has  to  be  worth  one  hundred  dollars.  When  the 
miner  has  obtained  a  sufficient  amount,  he  takes  it  to  the  Mint 
and  delivers  it  to  the  Superintendent.  That  officer  takes  an 
account  of  it,  and  passes  it  over  to  the  Assayer,  who  fixes  its 
value,  when  the  miner  receives  the  allotted  sum  of  money.  The 
operation  of  coining  is  performed  by  the  power  of  steam,  and 
may  be  briefly  described  by  the  words  rolling,  drawing,  cutting, 
and  stamping.  Some  of  the  Dahlonega  gold  is  said  to  bo  as 
pure  as  any  in  tho  world,  but  it  is  commonly  alloyed  with  silver. 
One  or  two  specimens  were  shown  mo,  which  were  just  one  half 
silver :  and  yet  it  is  said  that  silver  ore  is  nowhere  found  in 
this  section  of  country.  Tho  value'  of  pure  gold  is  one  dollar 
per  pennyweight :  and  I  have  learned  since  I  came  here  that 
every  genuine  American  eagle  is  made  by  law  to  contain  one- 
twentieth  of  silver  and  one-twentieth  of  copper.  Tho  word 
bullion^  which  wo  hear  so  often  mentioned  among  commercial 
men,  is  a  misnomer,  for  it  is  legitimately  applied  only  to  un- 
wrought  gold,  washed  grains  or  gold  dust,  amalgamated  cakes 
and  balls,  and  melted  bars  and  cakes  ;  and  tho  word  ingot  is 
applied  to  a  bar  of  gold,  which  may  be  manufactured  into  two 
hundred  half  eagles,  or  ono  thousand  dollars.  To  give  a  sci- 
entific account  of  what  I  have  seen  in  tho  Dahlonega  Mint 
would  probably  please  my  scientific  readers,  but,  as  I  am  not 
writing  for  them,  they  must  excuse  mo.  "  What  is  writ,  is  writ; 
would  it  wore  worthier  1" 


TRIP  TO  TRACK  ROCK. 


DURINQ  my  stay  at  Dahlonega,  where  I  arrived  in  April,  I 
heard  a  good  deal  about  a  native  wonder,  called  "  Track  Rock," 
which  was  reported  to  be  some  thirty  miles  off,  on  the  north- 
western side  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains.  On  revolving  the 
information  in  my  mind,  I  concluded  that  this  rock  was  identi- 
cal with  one  which  had  been  mentioned  to  me  by  Professor 
James  Jackson,  of  the  University  of  Georgia,  and  I  also  re- 
membered that  the  Professor  had  shown  me  a  specimen  of  the 
rock  he  alluded  to,  which  contained  the  imprint  or  impression 
of  a  human  foot.  My  curiosity  was  of  course  excited,  and  I 
resolved  to  visit  the  natural  or  artificial  wonder.  I  made  the 
pilgrimage  on  foot,  and  what  I  saw  and  heard  of  peculiar  in- 
terest on  the  occasion  the  reader  will  find  recorded  in  the  pre- 
sent letter. 

In  accomplishing  the  trip  to  "  Track  Rock"  and  back  again 
to  this  place  I  was  two  days.  On  the  first  day  I  walked  only 
twenty  miles,  having  tarried  occasionally  to  take  a  pencil  sketch 
or  hear  the  birds,  as  they  actually  filled  the  air  with  melody. 
My  course  lay  over  a  very  uneven  country,  which  was  entirely 
uncultivated,  excepting  some  half  dozen  quiet  vales,  which  pre- 
sented a  cheerful  appearance.  The  woods  were  generally  com- 
posed of  oak  and  chestnut,  and  destitute  to  a  considerable  ox- 
tent  of  undergrowth ;  the  soil  was  composed  of  clay  and  sand, 
and  apparently  fertile ;  and  clear  sparkling  brooks  intersected 
the  country,  and  wore  the  first  that  I  had  sc^n  in  Georgia.  I 
had  a  number  of  extensive  mountain  views,  which  were  ore 
beautiful  than  imposing ;  and  among  the  birds  that  attracted 


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TRIP  TO  TRACK  ROCK. 


my  attention  were  the  red-bird,  mocking-bird,  quail,  lark,  wood- 
pecker, jay,  king-bird,  crow,  blue-bird,  and  dove,  together  with 
a  large  black-bird,  having  a  red  head,  (apparently  of  the  wood- 
pecker genus,)  and  another  smaller  bird,  whose  back  was  of  a 
rich  black,  breast  a  bright  brown,  with  an  occasional  white 
feather  in  its  wing,  which  I  fancied  to  be  a  species  of  robin. 
Since  these  were  my  companions,  it  may  be  readily  imagined 
that  "  pleasantly  the  hours  of  Thalaba  went  by." 

I  spent  the  night  at  a  place  called  "  Tesantee  Gap,"  in  the 
cabin  of  a  poor  farmer,  where  I  was  most  hospitably  entertained. 
My  host  had  a  family  of  nine  sons  and  three  daughters,  not 
one  of  whom  had  ever  been  out  of  the  wilderness  region  of 
Georgia.  Though  the  father  was  a  very  intelligent  man  by 
nature,  he  told  me  that  he  had  received  no  education,  and  could 
hardly  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible.  He  informed  me,  too,  that 
his  children  were  but  little  better  informed,  and  seemed  deeply 
to  regret  his  inability  to  give  them  the  schooling  which  he  felt 
they  needed.  "  I  have  always  desired,"  said  he,  "  that  I  could 
live  on  some  public  road,  so  that  my  girls  could  occasionally  see 
a  civilized  man,  since  it  is  fated  that  they  will  never  meet  with 
them  in  society."  I  felt  sorry  for  the  worthy  man,  and  endea- 
vored to  direct  his  attention  from  himself  to  the  surrounding 
country.  lie  told  me  the  mountains  were  susceptible  of  culti- 
vation even  to  their  summits,  and  that  the  principal  productions 
of  his  farm  were  corn,  wheat,  rye,  and  potatoes ;  also,  that  the 
country  abounded  in  game,  such  as  deer,  turkeys,  and  bears, 
and  an  occasional  panther.  Some  of  the  mountains,  he  said, 
wore  covered  with  hickory,  and  a  peculiar  kind  of  oak,  and  that 
gray  squirrels  were  very  abundant.  The  streams,  he  informed 
me,  were  well  supplied  with  large  minnows,  by  which  I  afterwards 
ascertained  he  meant  the  brook  trout. 

While  conversing  with  my  old  friend,  an  hour  or  so  before 
sunset,  we  were  startled  by  the  baying  of  his  hounds,  and  on 
looking  up  the  narrow  road  running  by  his  home,  we  saw  a  fine 
looking  doe  coming  towards  us  on  the  run.  In  its  terror  the 
poor  creature  made  a  sudden  turn,  and  scaling  a  garden  fence 
was  overtaken  by  the  dogs  on  a  spot  near  which  the  wife  of  my 


TRIP  TO  TRACK  ROCK. 


858 


host  was  planting  seeds,  when  she  immediately  seized  a  bean- 
pole, and  by  a  single  blow  deprived  the  doe  of  life.  In  a  very 
few  moments  her  husband  was  on  the  ground,  and,  having  put 
his  knife  to  the  throat  of  the  animal,  the  twain  re-entered  their 
dwelling,  as  if  nothing  had  happened  out  of  the  common  order 
of  events.  This  was  the  first  deer  that  I  ever  knew  to  be  killed 
by  a  woman.  When  I  took  occasion  to  compliment  the  dogs  of 
my  old  friend,  he  said  that  one  of  them  was  a  "  powerful  rfin- 
ner ;  for  he  had  known  him  to  follow  a  deer  for  three  days  and 
three  nights."  Having  in  view  my  future  rambles  among  the 
mountains,  I  questioned  my  companion  about  the  snakes  of  this 
region,  and,  after  remarking  that  they  were  "  very  plenty,"  he 
continued  as  follows :  "  But  of  all  the  snake  stories  you  ever 
heard  tell  of,  I  do  not  believe  you  ever  heard  of  a  snake  fight. 
I  saw  one,  Monday  was  a  week,  between  a  bla?^  f"c:r  and  a 
rattlesnake.  It  was  in  the  road^  about  a  mile  from  here,  and 
when  I  saw  them  the  racer  had  the  other  by  the  back  of  the 
head,  and  was  coiling  his  body  all  around  him,  as  if  to  squeeze 
him  to  death.  The  scuffle  was  pretty  severe,  but  the  racer  soon 
killed  the  fellow  with  rattles,  and  I  killed  the  racer.  It  was  a 
queer  scrape,  and  I  reckon  you  do  not  often  see  the  like  in  your 
country." 

On  the  following  day  I  passed  througli  the  Blue  Ridge,  and 
visited  the  ''Mecca  of  my  pilgrimage,"  and  was — disappointed. 
I  was  pilotc^  to  it  by  a  neighboring  mountaineer,  Avho  remarked, 
"This  is  Track  Rock,  and  it's  no  great  shakes  after  all."  I 
found  it  occupying  an  unobtrusive  place  by  the  road  side.  It 
is  of  an  irregular  form  and  quite  smooth,  rises  gradually  from 
the  ground  to  the  height  of  perhaps  three  fuct,  and  is  about 
twenty  feet  long  by  the  most  liberal  measurement.  It  is  evi- 
dently covered  with  a  great  variety  of  tracks,  including  those 
of  men,  bears  or  dogs,  and  turkeys,  together  with  indistin.t; 
impressions  of  a  man's  hand.  Some  of  the  impressions  arc  half 
an  inch  thick,  while  many  of  them  appear  to  bo  almost  entirely 
effaced.  The  rock  seemed  to  bo  a  species  of  slate- colored  soap- 
stone.  Tho  conclusion  to  which  I  have  arrived,  after  careful 
examination,  is  as  follows :  This  rock  is  located  on  what  was 
28 


5(? 


^     ^' 


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854 


TRIP  TO  TRACK  ROOK. 


m- 


once  an  Indian  trail,  and,  having  been  used  by  the  Cherokees 
as  a  resting  place,  it  was  probably  their  own  ingenuity  which 
conceived  f  nd  executed  the  characters  which  now  puzzle  the 
philosophy  of  many  men.  The  common  opinion  is,  however, 
that  these  tracks  were  originally  made  in  a  soft  mud,  which 
time  has  transformed  into  stone.  But  how  came  the  human 
impressions  there  ?  The  scenery  about  Track  Rock  is  not  re- 
markable for  its  grandeur,  though  you  can  hardly  turn  the  eye 
in  any  direction  without  beholding  an  agreeable  mountain  land- 
scape. In  returning  through  Teaantce  Gap  and  the  valley 
below,  I  met  with  no  adventures  worth  recording,  and  will 
therefore  conclude  my  present  epistle  with  a  paragraph  con- 
cerning the  plantation  where  I  am  now  tarrying. 

The  proprietor  is  an  intelligent  and  worthy  gentleman,  who 
is  reputed  to  be  the  nabob  of  this  region.  He  acquired  a  por- 
tion of  his  wealth  by  digging  gold,  but  is  now  chiefly  devoting 
himself  to  agriculture.  He  complains  of  the  little  advancement 
which  the  people  of  Northern  Georgia  are  making  in  the  artH 
of  husbandry ;  and  thinks  that  it  would  be  much  better  for  the 
State  if  the  people  could  be  persuaded  to  follow  the  plough, 
instead  of  wasting  their  time  and  money  in  searching  for  gold, 
which  metal,  he  seems  to  think,  is  nearly  exhausted  in  this* 
section  of  country..  Among  the  curious  things  which  I  have 
seen  under  his  roof,  is  a  small  but  choice  collection  of  minerals, 
fossil  remains,  and  Indian  relics,  belonging  to  his  eldest  son. 
Among  the  latter  may  be  mentioned  a  heavy  stone  pipe,  made 
in  imitation  of  a  duck,  which  was  found  in  Macon  county, 
North  Carolina,  fifteen  feet  below  the  surface  ;  and  also  a  small 
cup,  similar  to  a  crucible,  and  made  of  an  unknown  earthy 
material,  which  was  found  in  this  county,  about  nine  feet  below 
the  surface,  and  directly  under  a  largo  tree.  But  the  post 
boy's  horn  is  blowing,  and  I  must  bring  ray  "  disjointed  chat" 
to  a  conclusion. 


VALLEY    OF   NACOOCHEE. 


I  NOW  write  from  the  most  charming  valley  of  this  southern 
wilderness.     The  river  Nacooche  is  a  tributary  of  the  Chatta- 
hooche,  and,  for  this  country,  is  a  remarkably  clear,  cold  and 
picturesque  stream.     From  the  moment  that  it  doffs  the  title  of 
brook,  lind  receives  the  more  dignified  one  of  river,  it  begins  to 
wind  itself  in  a  most  wayward  manner  through  a  valley  which 
is  some  eight  or  ten  miles  long,  when  it  wanders  from  the  vision 
of  the  ordinary  traveller,  and  loses  itself  among  unexplored 
hills.     The  valley  is  perhaps  a  mile  wide,  and,  as  the  surround- 
ing hills  are  not  lofty,  it  is  distinguished  more  foe  its  beauty 
than  any  other  quality ;  and  this  characteristic  is  greatly  en- 
hanced by  the  fact,  that  while  the  surrounding  country  remains 
in  its  original  wilderness,  the  valley  itself  is  highly  cultivated, 
and  the  eye  is  occasionally  gratified  by  cottage  scenes,  which 
suggest  the  ideas  of  contentment  and  peace.     Before  the  win- 
dow where  I  am  now  writing  lies  a  broad  meadow,  wliere  horses 
and  qattle  are  quietly  grazing,  and  from  the  neighboring  hills 
comes  to  my  car  the  frequent  tinkling  of  a  bell,  which  tells  me 
that  the  sheep  or  goats  arc  returning  from  their  morning  ram- 
bles in  the  cool  woods. 

And  now  for  the  associations  connected  with  the  valle^  of 
Nacoochee.  Foremost  among  them  all  is  a  somewhat  isolated 
mountain,  the  summit  of  which  is  nearly  three  milca  distant 
from  the  margin  of  the  valley.  It  occupies  a  conspicuous  posi- 
tion in  all  the  views  of  the  surrounding  country,  and  from  one 
point  partially  resembles  tlie  figtiro  of  a  crouching  bear,  from 
which  circumstance  it  was  named  the  YonaJi  Mountain — ^yonah 


856 


YALLET  OF  NAC<ACHEE. 


r 


being  the  Cherokee  for  bear.  The  mountain  bear  seems  to  be 
proud  of  its  exaited  position,  and  well  it  may,  for  it  is  the  natu- 
ral guardian  of  one  of  the  sweetest  valleys  in  the  world.  Its 
height  is  nearly  two  thousand  feet  above  the  water  in  its 
vicinity. 

But  the  artificial  memorials  of  Nacoochee  are  deserving  of  a 
passing  notice.  On  the  southern  side  of  the  valley,  and  about 
half  a  mile  apart,  are  two  mounds,  which  are  the  wonder  of  all 
who  see  them.  They  are,  perhaps,  forty  feet  high,  and  similar  in 
form  to  a  half  globe.  One  of  them  has  been  cultivated,  while 
the  other  is  covered  with  grass  and  bushes,  and  surmounted, 
directly  on  the  top,  by  a  large  pine  tree.  Into  one  of  them  an 
excavation  has  been  made,  and,  as  I  am  informed,  pipes,  toma- 
hawks, and  human  bones  were  found  in  great  numbers.  Con- 
nected with  these  is  an  Indian  legend,  which  I  will  give  my 
readers  presently. 

Many  discoveries  have  been  made  in  the  valley  of  Nacoo- 
chee, corroborating  the  general  impression  that  De  Soto,  or 
some  other  adventurer  in  the  olden  times,  performed  a  pilgrim- 
age through  the  northern  part  of  Georgia  in  search  of  gold. 
Some  twelve  years  ago,  for  example,  half  a  dozen  log  cabins 
were  discovered  in  one  portion  of  the  valley,  lying  ten  feet 
below  the  surface ;  and,  in  other  places,  something  resembling 
a  furnace,  together  with  iron  spoons,  pieces  of  earthenware,  and 
leaden  plates  were  disinterred,  and  are  now  in  possession  of  the 
resident  inhabitants.  In  this  connection  might  also  be  men- 
tioned the  ruin  of  j^n  old  fort,  which  may  now  be  seen  a  fev/ 
miles  north  of  Nacoochee  valley.  It  is  almost  obliterated  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  but  its  various  ramparts  can  be  easily 
traced  by  a  careful  observer.  Its  purpose  we  can  easily  divine, 
but  with  regard  to  its  history  even  the  Indians  are  entirely 
ignorant. 

Connected  with  the  valley  of  Nacoochee  are  the  following 
legends,  which  were  related  to  me  by  the  "  oldest  inhabitant" 
of  this  region. 

In  this  valley,  in  the  olden  times,  resided  Koatoi/eak,  or  the 
"Sharp  Shooter,"  a  chief  of  the  Cherokee  nation.    He  was 


VALLET  OF  KACOOCHEE. 


367 


renowned  for  his  bravery  and  cunning,  and  among  his  bitterest 
enemies  was  one  Choneata,  or  the  "  Black  Dog,"  a  chief  of  the 
Tennesaees.  In  those  days  there  was  a  Teh.dSsee  ipaiden  re- 
siding in  the  low  country,  who  was  renowned  for  her  beauty  in 
all  the  land,  and  she  numbered  among  her  many  suitors  the 
famous  Kostoycak  and  four  other  warriors,  upon  each  of  whom 
she  was  pleasea  to  smile;  whereupon  she  discarded  all  the  others, 
and  among  them  the  Tennessee  chief  Chonesta.  On  returning 
to  his  own  country  he  breathed  revenge  against  Kostoyeak,  and 
threatened  that  if  he  succeeded  to  the  hand  of  the  Yemassee 
beauty,  the  Cherokee's  tribe  should  be  speedily  exterminated. 
The  merits  of  the  four  rival  chiefs  were  equal,  and  the  Yemassee 
chief  could  not  decide  upon  which  to  bestow  his  daughter. 
Kostoyeak  was  her  favorite,  and  in  order  to  secure  a  marriage 
with  him,  she  proposed  to  her  father  that  she  should  accept 
that  warrior  who  could  discover  where  the  waters  of  the  Savan- 
nah and  those  of  the  Tennessee  took  their  rise  among  the 
mountains.  Supposing  that  no  such  place  existed  the  father 
gave  his  consent,  and  the  great  hunt  was  commenced.  At  the 
end  of  the  first  moon  Kostoyeak  returned  with  tho  intelligence 
that  he  had  found  a  gorge — now  called  the  gap  of  the  Blue 
Ridge,  as  well  as  Raburn  Gap — where  the  two  great  rivers 
''  shake  hands  and  commence  their  several  journeys,  each  sing- 
ing a  song  of  gladness  and  freedom."  In  process  of  time  the 
Yemassee  chief  was  convinced  that  Kostoyeak  to)d  a  true  story, 
and  he  wds,  therefore,  married  to  the  long-loved  maiden  of  his 
choice. 

Enraged  at  these  events,  Chonesta  assembled  his  warriors, 
and  made  war  upon  the  fortunate  Cherokee  and  his  whole  tribe. 
The  Great  Spirit  was  the  friend  of  Kostoyeak,  and  he  was  tri- 
umphant. He  slew  Chonesta  with  his  owb  hand,  and  destroyed 
his  bravest  warriors,  and  finally  became  the  possessor  of  half 
the  entire  Tennessee  valley. 

Years  rolled  on,  and  Kostoyeak  as  well  as  his  wife  were  num- 
bered among  the  dead.  They  were  buried  with  every  Indian 
honor  in  the  valley  of  Nacopchee,  and,  to  perpetuate  their 
many  virtues  in  after  years,  their  several  nations  erected  over 


.J 


858 


VALLET  OF  NAOOOCHEB. 


their  remains  the  mounds  which  now  adorn  a  portion  of  the 
Valley  where  they  lived. 

The  other  legend  to  which  I  have  alluded  is  as  follows :  The 
meaning  of  the  Indian  word  Nacoochee  is  the  "  Evening  Star," 
and  was  applied  to  a  Cherokee  girl  of  the  same  name.  She 
was  distinguished  for  her  beauty,  and  a  strange  attachment  for 
the  flowers  and  the  birds  of  her  native  yalley.  She  died  in  her 
fifteenth  summer,  and  at  the  twilight  hour  of  a  summer  day. 
On  the  evening  following  her  burial,  a  newly-born  star  made 
its  appearance  in  the  sky,  and  all  her  kindred  cherished  the 
belief  that  she  whom  they  had  thought  as  lovely  as  the  star, 
had  now  become  the  brightest  of  the  whole  array  which  looked 
down  upon  the  world,  and  so  she  has  ever  been  remembered  (as 
well  as  the  valley  where  she  lived)  as  Na-coo-chee,  or  the  Evening 
Star.  The  spot  of  earth  where  the  maiden  is  said  to  have  been 
buried  is  now  covered  with  flowers,  and  the  waters  of  the  beau- 
tiful Nacoochee  seem  to  be  murmuring  a  perpetual  song  in 
memory  of  the  departed. 

That  this  letter  may  leave  a  permanent  impression  upon  my 
reader's  mind,  I  will  append  to  it  the  following  poem  written 
by  a  Georgia  poet,  Henry  R.  Jackson,  Esq. 


D;0unt  ^m4—Mt  flf  $mat\tt. 

Before  me,  as  I  stand,  his  broad,  round  head 

Mount  YoNAH  lifts  the  neighboring  hills  above, 
While,  at  his  foot,  all  pleasantly  is  spread 

Nacoochse's  vale,  sweet  as  a  dream  of  love. 

Cradle  of  peace  I  mild,  gentle  as  the  dove 
Whose  tender  accents  from  yon  woodlands  swell, 

Must  she  have  been  who  thus  has  interwove 
Her  name  witl^hee,  and  thy  soft,  holy  spell, 
And  all  of  peace  which  on  this  troubled  globe  may  dwell  1 

Nacoocoee — in  tradition,  thv  sweet  queen — 
Has  vanished  with  her  maidens :  not  again 

Along  thy  meadows  shall  their  forms  be  seen ; 
The  mountain  echoes  catch  no  more  the  strain 
Of  their  wild  Indian  lays  at  evening's  wane ; 


VALLET  OF  NACOOCHEE. 


359 


No  more,  whore  rumbling  branches  interwine, 

They  pluck  the  jasmine  flowers,  or  break  the  cane 
Beside  the  marshy  stream,  or  from  the  vine 
Shake  down,  in  purple  showers,  the  luscious  muscadine. 

Yet  round  thee  hangs  the  same  sweet  spirit  still  1 

Thou  art  among  these  hills  a  sacred  spot, 
As  if  shut  out  from  all  the  clouds  of  ill 

That  gloom  so  darkly  o'er  the  human  lot. 

On  thy  green  breast  the  world  I  quite  forgot — 
Its  stern  contentions — its  dark  grief  and  care, 

And  I  breathed  freer,  deeper,  and  blushed  not 
At  old  emotions  long,  long  stifled  there. 
Which  sprang  once  more  to  life  in  thy  calm,  loving  air. 


hmU 

tlm 

'^41 

tw'n^ 

*ii 

lp '  •'•■■i 

4» 

ll:  Jt"[ 

fli 

111*-" 

I  saw  the  last  bright  gleam  of  sunset  play 

On  Yonah's  lofty  head :  all  quiet  grew 
Thy  bosom,  which  beneath  the  shadows  lay 

Of  the  surrounding  mountains ;  deeper  blue 

Fell  on  their  mighty  summits ;  evening  threw 
Iler  veil  o'er  all,  and  on  her  azure  brow 

A  bright  star  shone;  a  trusting  form  I  drew 
Yet  closer  to  my  side ;  above,  below. 
Within  where  peace  and  hope  life  may  not  often  know ! 

Thou  loveliest  of  earth's  valleys  !  fare  thee  well  I 

Nor  is  the  parting  pangless  to  my  soul. 
Youth,  hope  and  happiness  with  thee  shall  dwell, 

Unsullied  Nature  hold  o'er  thee  control. 

And  years  still  leave  thee  beauteous  as  they  roll. 
Oh  !  I  could  linger  with  thee !  yet  this  spell 

Must  break,  e'en  as  upon  my  heart  it  stole. 
And  found  a  weakness  there  I  may  not  tell — 
An  anxious  life,  a  troubled  future  claim  me !  fare  thee  well  I 


i 

M:^ '/ 

W&i-i 

ii,™ 

B^ffiy^ 

"lii  '^' 

iSgiSit'^l 

^ 

■'•  **^:  .:i 


CASCADE    OF    TUCCOAH. 


The  little  village  where  I  am  now  staying  is  decidedly  the 
most  interesting  in  the  northern  part  of  Georgia.  There  is 
nothing  particularly  fine  about  its  buildings,  and  it  only  con- 
tains some  three  hundred  inhabitants,  but  it  commands  a  mag- 
nificent prospect  of  two  ranges  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains. 
It  is  remarkable  for  the  healthfulness  of  its  climate,  and  is  the 
summer  resort  of  between  forty  and  fifty  of  the  most  wealthy 
and  accomplished  families  of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  a 
number  of  whom  have  erected  and  are  erecting  elegant  country 
seats  in  its  immediate  vicinity.  It  contains  a  mineral  spring, 
which  is  said  to  have  saved  the  lives  of  many  individuals  ;  and 
it  patronizes  two  hotels,  where  the  tourist  may  obtain  all  the 
luxuries  of  the  North  as  well  as  the  South,  and  in  a  style  which 
must  gratify  and  astonish  him,  when  he  remembers  that  he  has 
reached  the  end  of  carriage  traveling,  and  is  on  the  confines  of 
an  almost  impassable  wilderness.  The  water-power  in  its 
neighborhood  would  supply  at  least  fifty  factories,  and  it  yields 
more  than  a  suflicient  quantity  of  iron  ore  to  furnish  constant 
employment  to  an  extensive  sr  citing  establishment  and  furnace. 
Its  soil  is  of  the  best  quality,  and  yields  i«  great  abundance 
every  variety  of  produce  peculiar  to  a  temperate  climate.  But 
the  chief  attraction  of  Clarksville  is,  that  it  is  the  centre  of 
some  of  the  most  romantic  scenery  in  the  world,  and  the  stop- 
ping-place for  all  those  who  visit  Nacoochoe  Valley,  Yonali 
Mountain,  the  Tuccoah  Cascade,  Tallulah  Falls,  and  Tr: 
Mountain.  The  first  two  curiosities  alluded  to  have  already 
been  described,  and  I  now  purpose  to  introduce  to  my  reader 


CASCADE  OF  TUCCOAH. 


861 


the  peculiar  and  beautiFul  Cascade  of  Tuccoah,  reserving  the 
two  other  marvels  of  nature  for  future  letters. 

The  Tuccoah  is  a  very  sraall  stream — a  mere  brooklet,  and 
for  the  most  part  is  not  at  all  distinguished  for  any  other  qua- 
lity than  those  beloil^ing  to  a  thousand  other  sparkling  streams 
of  this  region ;  but,  in  its  oceanward  course,  it  performs  one 
leap  which  has  given  it  a  reputation.     On  account  of  this  leap 
the  aborigines  christened  it  with  the  name  of  Tuccoah  or  the 
beautiful.  To  see  this  cascade,  in  your  mind's  eye,  (and  I  here 
partly  quote  the  language  of  one  who  could  fully  appreciate  its 
beauty,)  imagine  a  sheer  precipice  of  gray  and  rugged  rock,  one 
hundred  and  eighty-six  feet  high,  with  a  little  quiet  lake  at  its 
base,  surrounded  by  sloping  masses  of  granite  and  tall  shadowy 
trees.     From  the  overhanging  lips  of  this  cliff,  aloft,  between 
your  upturned  eyes  and  the  sky,  comes  a  softly  flowing  stream. 
After  making  a  joyous  leap  it  breaks  into  a  shower  of  heavy 
spray,  and  scatters  its  drops  more  and  more  widely  and  minute, 
until,  in  little  more  than  a  drizzling  mist  it  falls  upon  the 
smooth,  moss-covered  stones  lying  immediately  beneath.     All 
the  way  up  the  sides  of  this  precipice  cling,  wherever  space  is 
afforded,  little  tufts  of  moss  and  delicate  vines  and  creepers, 
contrasting  beautifully  with  the  solid  granite.     There  is  no 
stunning  noise  of  falling  waters,  but  only  a  dripping,  pattering, 
plashing  in  the  lake ;  a  murmuring  sound,  which  must  be  very 
grateful  during  th6  noontide  heat  of  a  summer  day.     There 
comes  also  a  soft  cool  breeze,  constantly  from  the  foot  of  the 
precipice,  caused  by  the  falling  shower,  and  this  ripples  the 
Burface  of  the  pool  and  gently  agitates  the  leaves  around  and 
overhead. 

Connected  with  the  Cascade  of  Tuccoah  is  an  Indian  tradi- 
tion, which  was  related  to  me  by  a  gentleman  connected  with 
the  Georgia  University,  who  obtained  it  from  a  Cherokee  chief. 
The  occurrence  is  said  to  be  Avell  authenticated,  and  runneth 
in  this  wise :  A  short  time  previous  to  the  Revolution,  the  Che- 
rokees  were  waging  a  very  bitter  warfare  against  a  powerful 

ibo  of  Indians  who  dwelt  in  the  country  of  the  Potomac, 
inuring     ae  of  their  pitched  battles,  it  so  happened  that  the 


■"i-i.^ 


m. 


U^lL^ 


^•Kft 


i 


862 


CASCADE  OF  TUCCOAH. 


-lif^i 


1 


Cherokees  made  captive  about  a  dozen  of  their  enemies,  whom 
they  brought  into  their  own  country  safely  bound.  Their  in- 
tention was  to  sacrifice  the  prisoners ;  but,  as  they  wished  the 
ceremony  to  be  particularly  imposing,  on  account  of  the  fame 
of  the  captives,  it  was  resolved  to  postpolfo  the  sacrifice  until 
the  following  moon.  In  the  meantime  the  Cherokee  braves 
went  forth  to  battle  again,  while  the  prisoners,  now  more  se- 
curely bound  than  ever,  were  left  in  a  large  wigwam  near  Tuc- 
coah,  in  the  especial  charge  of  an  old  woman,  who  was  noted 
for  her  savage  patriotism. 

Day  followed  day,  and,  as  the  unfortunate  enemies  lay  in 
the  lodge  of  the  old  woman,  she  dealt  out  to  them  a  scanty  sup- 
ply of  food  and  water.     They  besought  the  woman  to  release 
them,  and  ofiered  her  the  most  valuable  of  Indian  bribes,  but 
she  held  her  tongue  and  remained  faithful  to  her  trust.   It  was 
now  the  morning  of  a  pleasant  day,  when  an  Indian  boy  called 
at  the  door  of  the  old  woman's  lodge  and  told  her  that  he  had 
seen  a  party  of  their  enemies  in  a  neighboring  valley,  and  he 
thought  it  probable  that  they  had  come  to  rescue  their  fellows. 
The  woman  heard  this  intelligence  in  silence,*  but  bit  her  lip  in 
anger  and  defiance.     On  re-entering  her  lodge  another  appeal 
for  freedom  was  made,  and  the  prisoners  were  delighted  to  see 
a  smile  playing  about  the  countenance  of  their  keeper.     She 
told  them  she  had  relented,  and  was  willing  to  let  them  escape 
their  promised  doom,  but  it  must  be  on*  certain  conditions. 
They  were  first  to  give  into  her  hands  all  their  personal  efiects, 
which  she  would  bury  under  the  lodge.     She  did  not  wish  to 
be  discovered,  and  they  must  therefore  depart  at  the  dead  of 
night.     She  did  not  wish  them  to  know  how  to  find  their  way 
back  to  the  lodge,  whence  they  might  see  fit  to  take  away  her 
reward,  and  she  therefore  desired  that  they  should  be  blind- 
folded, and  consent  to  her  leading  them  about  two  miles  through 
a  thick  wood,  into  an  open  country,  when  she  would  release 
them.     The  prisoners  gladly  consented;  and,  while  they  were 
suffering  themselves  to  be  stripped  of  their  robes  and  weapons, 
a  heavy  cloud  canopied  the  sky,  aa  if  heralding  a  storm.    At 
the  hour  of  midnight  loud  peald  of  thunder  bellowed  through 


CASCADE  OP  TUCCOAH. 


363 


the  firmament,  and  terribly  flashed  the  lightning.  The  night 
and  the  contemplated  deed  were  admirably  suited,  thought  the 
warriors,  and  so  thought  the  woman  also.  She  placed  leathern 
bands  around  the  eyes  of  her  captives ;  and,  having  severed 
the  thongs  which  confined  their  feet,  bade  them  follow  whither 
she  might  lead.  They  were  connected  with  each  other  by  iron 
withes  ;  and  so  the  woman  led  them  to  their  promised  freedom. 
Intricate,  and  winding,  and  tedious  was  the  way ;  but  not  a 
murmur  was  uttered,  nor  a  word  spoken.  Now  has  the  strange 
procession  reached  a  level  spot  of  earth,  and  the  men  step 
proudly  on  their  way.  Now  have  they  reached  the  precipice 
of  Tuccoah ;  and  as  the  woman  walks  to  the  very  edge, 
she  makes  a  sudden  wheel,  and,  one  aft^r  the  other,  are  the 
poor  captives  launched  into  the  abyss  below.  A  loud  wail  of 
triumph  echoes  through  the  air  from  the  lips  of  the  woman- 
fiend,  and,  with  the  groans  of  the  dying  in  her  ears,  and  the 
very  lightning  in  her  path,  does  she  retrace  her  steps  to  her 
lodge  to  seek  repose,  and  then  on  the  morrow  to  proclaim  her 
cruel  and  unnatural  deed. 

In  the  bottom  of  the  Tuccoah  pool  may  now  be  gathered 
small  fragments  of  a  white  material,  resembling  soap-stone,  and 
many  people  allege  that  these  are  the  remains  of  the  Indian 
captives  who  perished  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice. 


■•\i:i'  •  ,'    :J' 


/ 


t.i     I 


■':U 


THE  FALLS  OF  TALLULAH. 


•If      ■),![     ■•>■ 


K 

u 


^^::<i 


As  a  natural  curiosity  the  Falls  of  Tallulah  are  on  a  par 
with  the  River  Saguenay  and  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  They  had 
been  described  to  me  in  the  most  glowing  and  enthusiastic 
manner,  and  yet  the  reality  far  exceeds  the  scene  which  I  had 
conceived.  They  have  filled  me  with  astonishment,  and  created 
a  feeling  strong  enough  almost  to  induce  me  to  remain  within 
hearing  of  their  roar  forever. 

The  Cherokee  word  Tallulah  or  Turrurah,  signifies  the  ter- 
rible, and  was  originally  applied  to  the  river  of  that  name  on 
account  of  its  fearful  falls.  This  river  rises  among  the  Alle- 
ghany mountains,  and  is  a  tributary  of  the  Savannah.  Its 
entire  course  lies  through  a  mountain  land,  and  in  every  par- 
ticular it  is  a  mountain  stream,  narrow,  deep,  clear,  cold,  and 
subject  to  every  variety  of  mood.  During  the  first  half  of  its 
career  it  winds  among  the  hills  as  if  in  uneasy  joy,  and  then 
for  several  miles  it  wears  a  placid  appearance,  and  you  can 
scarcely  hear  the  murmur  of  its  waters.  Soon,  tiring  of  this 
peaceful  course,  however,  it  narrows  itself  for  an  approaching 
contest,  and  runs  through  a  chasm  whose  walls,  about  two  milcH 
in  length,  are  for  the  most  part  perpendicular;  and,  after 
making  witliin  the  space  of  half  a  mile  a  number  of  leaps  as 
the  chasm  deepens,  it  settles  into  a  turbulent  and  angry  mood, 
and  so  continues  until  it  leaves  the  chasm  and  regains  its 
wonted  character.  The  Falls  of  Tallulah,  properly  speaking, 
are  five  in  number,  and  have  been  christened  Lodore,  Tern- 
pesta,  Oceana,  Jforicon,  and  the  Serpentine.  Their  scveran 
heights  are  said  to  be  forty-five  feet,  one  hundred,  one  hundred 


THE  FALLS  OF  TALLULAH. 


365 


and  twenty,  fifty,  and  tMrty  feet,  making,  in  connection  with 
the  accompanying  rapids,  a  descent  of  at  least  four  hundred 
feet  within  the  space  of  half  a  mile.  At  this  point  the  stream 
is  particularly  winding,'  and  the  cliffs  of  solid  granite  on  either 
side,  which  are  perpendicular,  vary  in  height  from  six  hundred 
to  nine  hundred  feet,  while  the  mountains  which  back  the  cliffs 
reach  an  elevation  of  perhaps  fifteen  hundred  feet.  Many  of 
the  pools  are  very  large  and  deep,  and  the  walls  and  rocks  in 
their  immediate  vicinitj'  arc  always  green  with  luxuriant  mosses. 
The  vegetation  of  the  whole  chasm  is  in  fact  particularly  rich 
and  varied ;  for  you  may  here  find  not  only  the  pine,  but  speci- 
mens of  every  variety  of  the  more  tender  trees,  together  with 
lichens,  and  vines,  and  flowers,  which  would  keep  the  botanist 
employed  for  half  a  century.  Up  to  the  present  time,  only 
four  paths  have  been  discovered  leading  to  the  margin  of  the 
water,  and  to  make  either  of  these  descents  requires  much  of 
the  nerve  and  courage  of  the  samphire-gatherer.  Through  this 
immense  gorge  a  strong  wind  is  ever  blowing,  and  the  sunlight 
never  falls  upon  the  cataracts  without  forming  beautiful  rain- 
bows, which  contrast  strangely  with  the  surrounding  gloom  and 
horror ;  and  the  roar  of  the  waterfalls,  eternally  ascending  to 
the  sky,  comes  to  the  car  like  a  voice  from  heaven,  calling  upon 
man  to  Avonder  and  admire. 

Of  the  more  peculiar  features  which  I  have  met  with  in  the 
Tallulah  chasm,  the  following  are  the  only  ones  which  have 
yet  been  christened,  viz. :  the  Devil's  Pulpit,  the  Devil's  Dwell- 
ing, the  Eagle's  Nest,  the  Deer  Leap,  Hawthorn's  Pool,  and 
Ilanck's  Sliding  Place. 

The  Devil's  Pulpit  is  a  double-headed  and  exceedingly 
ragged  cliff,  which  actually  hangs  over  the  ravine,  and  esti- 
mated to  bo  over  six  hundred  foot  high.  While  standing  upon 
the  brow  of  this  precipice  I  saw  a  number  of  buzzards  sitting 
upon  tho  rocks  below,  and  appearing  like  a  flock  of  blackbirds. 
While  looking  at  them,  the  thought  came  into  my  mind  that  I 
would  startle  thcui  from  their  fancied  security,  by  throwing  a 
stone  among  thcra.  I  did  throw  tho  stone,  and  with  all  my 
might,  too,  but  instead  of  going  across  tho  ravine,  as  I  sup- 


P 


if  1 


366 


THE  FALLS  OF  TALLULAH. 


,.j.in.»i«!(fQfc. 


fell 


posed  it  would,  it  fell  out  of  my  sight,  and  apparently  at  the 
very  base  of  the  cliflF  upon  which  I  was  standing.  This  little 
incident  gave  me  a  realizing  sense  of  the  immense  width  and 
depth  of  the  chasm.  While  upon  this  /clilf  also,  with  my  arms 
clasped  around  a  small  pine  tree,  an  eagle  came  sailing  up  the 
chasm  in  mid  air,  and,  as  he  cast  his  eye  upward  at  my  insig- 
nificant form,  he  uttered  a  loud  shriek  as  if  in  anger  at  my 
temerity,  and  continued  on  his  way,  swooping  above  the  spray 
of  the  waterfalls. 

The  Devil's  Dwelling  is  a  cave  of  some  twenty  feet  in  depth, 
which  occupies  a  conspicuous  place  near  the  summit  of  a  preci- 
pice overlooking  the  yoricon  Fall.  Near  its  outlet  is  a  singu- 
lar rock,  which  resembles  (from  the  opposite  side  of  the  gorge) 
the  figure  of  a  woman  in  a  sitting  posture,  who  is  said  to  be  the 
wife  or  better-half  of  the  devil.  I  do  not  believe  this  story,  and 
cannot  therefore  endorse  the  prevailFng  opinion. 

The  Eagle's  Nest  is  a  rock  which  projects  from  the  brow  of 
a  cliff  reputed  to  be  seven  hundred  feet  high,  and  perpendicu- 
lar. The  finest  view  of  this  point  is  from  the  margin  of  the 
water,  where  it  is  grand  beyond  compare.  To  describe  it  with 
the  pen  were  uttorly  impossible,  but  it  was  just  such  a  scene 
!i8  would  have  delighted  the  lamented  Cole,  and  by  a  kindred 
genius  alone  can  it  ever  be  placed  on  the  canvas. 

The  Deer  Leap  is  the  highest  cliff  in  the  whole  chasm,  mea- 
suring about  nine  hundred  feet,  and  differs  from  its  fellows  in 
two  particulars.  From  summit  to  bottom  it  is  almost  without  a 
fissure  or  an  evergreen,  and  remarkably  smooth ;  and  over  it, 
in  the  most  beautiful  manner  imaginable,  tumbles  a  tiny  stream, 
which  scatters  upon  the  rocks  below  with  infinite  prodigality 
the  purest  of  diamonds  and  pearls,  appearing  to  be  woven  into 
wreaths  of  foam.  It  obtained  its  name  from  the  circumstance 
that  a  deer  was  once  pursued  to  this  point  by  a  hound,  and  in 
its  terror,  cleared  a  pathway  througli  the  air,  and  perished  in 
the  depths  below. 

Hawthorn's  Pool  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that  in  its 
apparently  soundless  waters  a  young  and  accomplished  English 
clergyman  lost  his  life  while  bathing ;  and  Hanok's  Sliding 


'^'^ii 


THE  FALLS  OF  TALLULAH. 


367 


Place  is  so  called  because  a  native  of  this  region  once  slipped 
off  the  rock  into  a  sheet  of  foam,  and  was  rescued  from  his 
perilous  situation  not  much  injured,  but  immensely  frightened. 
But  of  all  the  scenes  which  I  have  been  privileged  to  enjoy 
in  the  Tallulah  chasm,  the  most  glorious  and  superb  was  wit- 
nessed in  the  night  time.     For  several  days  previous  to  my 
coming  here*  the  woods  had  been  on  fire,  and  I  was  constantly 
on  the  watch  for  a  night  picture  of  a  burning  forest.     On  one 
occasion,  as  I  was  about  retiring,  I  saw  a  light  in  the  direction 
of  the  Falls,  and  concluded  that  I  would  take  a  walk  to  the 
Devil's  Pulpit,  which  was  distant  from  my  tarrying  place  some 
hundred  and  fifty  yards.     When  I  reached  there  I  felt  con- 
vinced that  the  fire  would  soon  be  in  plain  view,  for  I  was  on 
the  western  side  of  the  gorge,  and  the  wind  was  blowing  from 
the  eastward.     In  a  very  few  moments  my  anticipations  were 
realized,  for  I  saw  the  flame  licking  up  the  dead  leaves  which 
covered  the  ground,  and  also  stealing  up  the  trunk  of  every  dry 
tree  in  its  path.     A  Avarm  current  of  air  was  now  wafted  to  my 
cheek  by  the  breeze,  and  I  discovered  with  intense  satisfaction 
that  an  immense  dead  pine  which  hung  over  the  opposite  pre- 
cipice (and  whoso  dai'k  form  I  had  noticed  distinctly  pictured 
against  the  crimson  background)  bid  been  reached  by  the  flame, 
and  in  another  moment  it  was  entirely  in  a  blaze.     The  excite- 
ment which  now  took  possession  of  m^  mind  was  truly  painful ; 
and,  as  I  threw  my  arms  around  a  small  tree,  and  peered  into 
the  horrible  chasm,  my  whole  frame  shook  with  an  indescriba- 
ble emotion.     The  magnificent  torch  directly  in  front  of  me 
did  not  seem  to  have  any  cflect  upon  the  surrounding  darkness, 
but  threw  a  ruddy  and  death-like  glow  upoii  every  object  in  the 
bottom  of  the  gorge.     A  flock  of  vultures  which  were  roosting 
far  down  in  the  ravine  were  frightened  out  of  tlieir  sleep,  and 
in  their  dismay,  as  they  attempted  to  rise,  flew  against  the  clifts 
and  amongst  the  trees,  until  they  finally  disappeared ;  and  a 
number  of  bats  and  other  winged  creatures  were  winnowing 
their  way  in  every  direction.     The  deep  black  pools  bcnoiith 
were  enveloped  in  a  more  intense  blackness,  while  the  foam  and 
spray  of  a  neighboring  fall  were  made  a  thousand-fold  more 
beautiful  than  before.    The  vines,  and  lichens,  and  mosses 


,i 


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THB  FALLS  07  TALLULAH. 


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seemed  to  cling  more  closely  than  usual  to  their  parent  rocks ; 
and  when  an  occasional  ember  fell  from  its  great  height  far 
down,  and  still  further  down  into  the  abyss  below,  it  made  rne 
dizzy  and  I  retreated  from  my  commanding  position.  In  less 
than  twenty  minutes  from  that  time  the  fire  was  exhausted",  and 
the  pall  of  night  had  settled  upon  the  lately  so  brilliant  chasm, 
and  no  vestige  of  the  marvellous  scene  remained'but  an  occa- 
sional wreath  of  smoke  fading  away  into  the  upper  air. 

During  my  stay  at  the  Falls  of  Tallulah  I  made  every  effort 
to  obtain  an  Indian  legend  or  two  connected  with  them,  and  it 
was  my  good  fortune  to  hear  one  which  has  never  yet  been 
printed.  It  was  originally  obtained  by  the  white  man  who  first 
discovered  the  Falls,  from  the  Cherokees,  who  lived  in  this  re- 
gion at  the  time.  It  is  in  substance  as  follows :  Many  genera- 
tions ago  it  so  happened  that  several  famous  hunters,  who  had 
■v^ndered  from  the  West  towards  what  is  now  the  Savannah 
river,  in  search  of  game,  never  returned  to  their  camping 
grounds.  In  process  of  time  the  curiosity  as  well  as  the  fears 
of  the  nation  were  excited,  and  an  effort  was  made  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  their  singular  disappearance.  Whereupon  a  party 
of  medicine-men  were  deputed  to  make  a  pilgrimage  towards 
the  great  river.  They  were  absent  a  whole  moon,  and,  on  re- 
turning to  their  friends,  they  reported  that  they  had  discovered 
a  dreadful  fissure  in  an  unknown  part  of  the  country,  through 
which  a  mountain  torrent  took  its  way  with  a  deafening  noiao. 
They  said  that  it  was  an  exceedingly  wild  place,  and  that  its 
inhabitants  were  a  species  of  little  men  and  ivotnen,  who  dwelt 
in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks  and  in  the  grottoes  under  the 
waterfalls.  They  had  attempted  by  every  artifice  in  their 
power  to  hold  a  council  with  the  little  people,  but  all  in  vain ; 
and,  from  the  shrieks  they  frequently  uttered,  the  medicine- 
men knew  that  they  were  the  enemies  of  the  Indian  race ;  and, 
therefore,  it  was  concluded  in  the  nation  at  large  that  the  long 
lost  hunters  had  been  decoyed  to  their  death  in  the  dreadful 
gorge  wh'ch  they  called  Tallulah.  In  view  of  this  little  legend, 
it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Cherokee  nation,  previous  to  their 
departure  to  the  distant  West,  always  avoided  the  Falls  of  Tallu- 
lah, and  were  seldom  found  hunting,  or  fishing  in  their  vicinity. 


'Vs-^^^r     m^^ 


THE   HUNTER   OF  TALLULAH. 


The  subject  of  my  present  letter  is  Adam  Vandever,  "  the 
Hunter  of  Tallulah."  His  fame  reached  my  ears  soon  after 
arriving  at  this  place,  and,  having  obtained  a  guide,  I  paid  him 
a  visit  at  his  residence,  which  is  planted  directly  at  the  mouth 
of  Tallulah  chasm.  He  lives  in  a  log-cabin,  occupying  the 
centre  of  a  small  valley,  through  which  the  Tallulah  river  winds 
its  wayward  course.  It  is  completely  hemmed  in  on  all  sides 
by  wild  and  abrupt  mountains,  and  one  of  the  most  romantic 
and  beautiful  nooks  imaginable.  Vandever  is  about  sixty 
years  of  age,  small  in  stature,  has  a  weasel  face,  a  small  gray 
eye,  and  wears  a  long  white  beard.  He  was  born  in  South 
Carolina,  spent  his  early  manhood  in  the  wilds  of  Kentucky, 
and  the  last  thirty  years  of  his  life  in  the  wilderness  of  Georgia. 
By  way  of  a  frolic,  he  iook  a  part  in  the  Creek  war,  and  is  said 
to  have  killed  more  Indians  than  any  other  white  man  in  the 
army.  In  the  battle  of  Ottassee  alone,,  he  is  reported  to  have 
sent  his  rifle-ball  through  the  hearts  of  tAventy  poor  heathen, 
merely  because  they  had  an  undying  passion  for  their  native 
hills,  which  they  could  not  boar  to  leave  for  an  unknown  wil- 
derness. But  Vandever  aimed  his  rifle  at  the  command  of  his 
country,  and  of  course  the  charge  of  cold-blooded  butchery 
does  not  rest  upon  his  head.  He  is  now  living  with  his  third 
wife,  and  claims  to  be  the  father  of  over  thirty  children,  only 
five  of  whom,  however,  are  living  undev  his  roof,  the  remainder 
being  dead  or  scattered  over  the  world.  During  the  summer 
months  he  tills,  with  his  own  hand,  the  few  acres  of  land  which 
constitute  his  domain.  His  live  stock,  consists  of  a  mule  and 
some  half  dozen  of  goats,  together  with  a  number  of  doga. 
24 


870 


THE  HUNTER  OF  TALLULAH. 


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H^^i! 

On  inquiring  into  his  forest  life,  he  gave  me,  among  others, 
the  following  particulars.  When  the  hunting  season  com- 
mences, early  in  November,  he  supplies  himself  with  every 
variety  of  shooting  materials,  steel-traps,  and  a  comfortable 
stock  of  provisions,  and,  placing  them  upon  his  mule,  starts  for 
some  wild  region  among  the  mountains,  where  he  remains  until 
the  following  spring.  The  shanty  which  he  occupies  during 
this  season  is  of  the  rudest  character,  with  one  side  always 
open,  aii  he  tells  me,  for  the  purpose  of  having  an  abundance 
of  fresh  air.  In  killing  wild  animals  ha  pursues  but  ♦wo  me- 
thods, called  "fire-lighting"  and  "  still-hunting."  His  favorite 
game  is  the  deer,  but  he  is  not  particular,  and  secures  the  fur  of 
every  four-legged  creature  which  may  happen  to  cross  his  path. 
The  largest  number  of  skins  that  he  ever  brought  home  at  one 
time  was  six  hundred,  among  which  were  those  of  the  bear,  the 
.black  and  gray  wolf,  the  panther,  the  wild-cat,  the  fox,  the 
coon,  and  some  dozen  other  varieties.  He  computes  the  en  Lire 
number  of  deer  that  he  has  killed  in  his  lifetime  at  four  thou- 
sand. When  spring  arrives,  and  he  purposes  to  return  to  his 
valley  home,  he  packs  his  furs  upon  his  old  mule,  and,  seating 
himself  upon  the  pile  of  plunder,  makes  a  bee-line  out  of  the 
wilderness.  And  by  those  who  have  seen  him  in  this  home- 
ward-bound condition,  I  am  told'  that  he  presents  one  of  the 
most  curious  and  romantic  pictures  imaginable.  While  among 
the  mountains,  his  beast  subsists  upon  whatever  it  may  happen 
to  glean  in  its  forest  rambles,  and,  when  the  first  supply  of  his 
own  provisions  is  exhausted,  he  usually  contents  himself  with 
wild  game,  which  he  is  often  compelled  to  devour  unaccom- 
panied with  bread  or  salt.  His  mule  is  the  smallest  and  most 
miserable  looking  creature  of  the  kind  that  I  ever  saw,  and 
glories  in  the  singular  name  of  "  The  Devil  and  Tom  Walker." 
When  Vandever  informed  me  of  this  fact,  which  he  did  with  a 
self-satisfied  air,  I  told  him  that  the  first  portion  of  the  male's 
name  was  more  applicable  to  himself  than  to  the  dumb  beast ; 
whereupon  he  "grinned  horribly  a  ghastly  smile,"  as  if  I  had 
paid  him  a  compliment.  Old  Vandever  is  an  illiterate  man, 
and  when  I  asked  him  to  give  me  his  opinion  of  President  Polk, 


THE  HUNTER  OF  TALLULAH. 


371 


he  replied :  "  I  never  seed  the  Governor  of  this  State ;  for, 
•when  he  came  to  this  country  some  years  ago,  I  was  oflF  on 
'tother  side  of  the  ridge,  shooting  deer.  I  voted  for  the  Gen- 
eral, and  that's  all  I  know  about  him."  Very  well !  and  this, 
thought  I,  is  one  of  the  freemen  of  our  land,  who  help  to  elect 
our  1  ulers ! 

Oa  questioning  my  hunter  friend  with  regard  to  some  of  his 
adventures,  he  commenced  a  rigmarole  narrative,  which  would 
have  lasted  a  whole  month  had  I  not  politely  requested  him  to 
keep  his  mouth  closed  while  I  took  a  portrait  of  him  in  pencil. 
His  stories  all  bore  a  strong  family  likeness,  but  were  evidently 
to  be  relied  on,  and  proved  conclusively  that  the  man  knew 
not  what  it  was  to  fear. 

As  specimens  of  the  whole,  I  will  outline  a  few.  On  one  oc- 
casion he  came  up  to  a  large  gray  wolf,  into  whose  head  he  dis- 
charged a  ball.  The  animal  did  not  drop,  but  made  its  way 
into  an  adjoining  cavern  and  disappeared.  Vandever  waited 
awhile  at  the  opening,  and  as  he  could  not  see  or  hear  his  game 
he  concluded  that  it  had  ceased  to  breathe,  whereupon  he  fell 
upon  his  hands  and  knees,  and  entered  the  cave.  On  reaching 
the  bottom,  he  found  the  wolf  alive,  when  a  "  clinch  fight" 
ensued,  and  the  hunter's  knife  completely  severed  the  heart 
of  the  animal.  On  dragging  out  the  dead  wolf  into  the 
sunlight,  it  was  found  that  his  lower  jaw  had  been  broken, 
which  was  probably  the  reason  why  he  had  not  succeeded  in 
destroying  the  hunter.  • 

At  one  time,  when  he  was  out  of  ammunition,  his  dogs  fell 
upon  a  large  bear,  and  it  so  happened  that  the  latter  got  one  of* 
the  former  in  his  power,  and  was  about  to  squeeze  it  to  death. 
This  was  a  sight  the  hunter  could  not  endure,  so  he  unsheathed 
his  huge  hunting-knife  and  assaulted  the  black  monster.  The 
bear  tore  oflf  nearly  every  rag  of  his  clothing,  and  in  making 
his  first  plunge  with  the  knife  he  completely  cut  off"  two  of  his 
own  fingers  instead  of  injuring  the  bear.  He  was  now  in  a 
perfect  frenzy  of  pain  and  rage,  and  in  making  another  e3brt 
succeeded  to  his  satisfaction,  and  gained  the  victory.  That 
bear  weighed  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 


"m  ■- 


!^~> 


t4«*i 


372 


THE  HUNTER  OP  TALLULAH. 


■"M  ^■■"i: 


fil'.MM'ai; 


On  another  occasion  he  fired  at  a  large  buck  near  the  brow  of  a 
precipice  some  thirty  feet  high,  which  hangs  over  one  of  the 
pools  in  the  Tallulah  river.  On  seeing  the  buck  drop,  he  took 
it  for  granted  that  he  was  about  to  die,  when  he  approached 
the  aniaial  for  the  purpose  of  cutting  its  throat.  To  his  great 
surprise,  however,  the  buck  suddenly  sprung  to  his.  feet  and 
made  a  tremendous  rush  at  the  hunter  with  a  view  of  throwing 
him  off  the  ledge.  But  what  was  more  remarkable,  the  animal 
succeeded  in  its  effort,  though  not  until  Vandevcr  had  obtained 
a  fair  hold  of  the  buck's  antlers,  when  the  twain  performed  a 
somerset  into  the  pool  below.  The  buck  made  its  escape,  and 
Vandever  was  not  seriously  injured  in  any  particular.  About 
a  month  subsequent  tc  that  time  he  killed  a  buck,  which  had  a 
bullet  wound  in  the  lower  part  of  its  neck,  whereupon  he  con- 
cluded that  he  had  finally  triumphed  over  the  animal  which  had 
given  him  the  unexpected  ducking. 

But  the  most  remarkable  escape  which  old  Vandever  ever 
experienced  ha'>y^ened  on  this  wise.  He  was  encamped  upon 
one  of  the  loftiest  mountains  in  Union  county.  It  was  near 
the  twilight  hour,  and  he  had  heard  the  howl  of  a  wolf.  With 
a  view  of  ascertaining  the  direction  whence  it  came,  he  climbed 
upon  an  immense  boulder-rock,  (weighing  perhaps  fifty  tons,) 
which  stood  on  the  brow  of  a  steep  hill  side.  While  standing 
upon  this  boulder  he  suddenly  felt  a  swinging  sensation,  and  to 
his  astonishment  he  found  that  it  was  about  to  make  a  fear- 
ful plunge  into  the  ravine  half  a  mile  below  him.  As  for- 
,  tune  would  have  it,  the  limb  of  an  oak  tree  drooped  over  the 
jrock ;  and,  as  the  rock  started  from  its  foundation,  he  seized 
the  limb,  and  thereby  saved  his  life.  The  dreadful  crash- 
ing of  the  boulder  as  it  descended  the  mountain  side  came  to 
the  hunter's  ear  while  he  was  suspended  in  the  air,  and  by 
the  time  it  had  reached  the  bottom  he  dropped  himself  on  the 
very  spot  which  had  been  vacated  by  the  boulder.  Vandever 
said  that  this  was  the  only  time  in  his  life  when  he  had  been 
really  frightened ;  and  he  also  added,  that  for  one  day  after  this 
escape  he  did  not  care  a  finger's  snap  for  the  finest  game  in  the 
wilderness. 


THE  HUNTER  OF  TALLULAH. 


373 


While  on  my  visit  to  Vandevfir's  cabin,  one  of  hi?  boys  came 
home  from  a  fishing  expedition,  and  on  examining  his  fish  I 
was  surprised  to  find  a  couple  of  ahad  and  three  or  four  striped 
hail*  or  rock-fish.  They  had  been  taken  in  the  Tallulah  just  below 
the  chasm,  by  means  of  a  wicker-net,  and  at  a  point  distant 
from  the  ocean  at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  I  had  been 
informed  that  the  Tallulah  abounded  in  trout,  but  I  was  not 
prepared  to  find  salt-water  fish  in  this  remote  mountain  wilder- 
ness. 

Since  I  have  introduced  the  above  youthful  Vandever  to  my 
readers,  I  will  record  a  single  one  of  his  deeds,  which  ought  to 
give  him  a  fortune,  or  at  least  an  education.  The  incident 
occurred  when  he  was  in  his  twelfth  year.  He  and  a  younger 
brother  had  been  gathering  berries  on  a  mountain  side, 
and  were  distant  from  home  about  two  miles.  While  care- 
lessly tramping  down  the  weeds  arid  bushes,  the  younger 
boy  was  bitten  by  a  rattlesnake  on  the  calf  his  leg.  In  a 
few  moments  thereafter  the  unhappy  child  fell  to  the  ground 
in  great  pain,  and  the  pair  were  of  course  in  unexpected  tribu- 
lation. The  elder  boy,  having  succeeded  in  killing  the  rattle- 
snake, conceived  the  idea,  as  the  only  alternative,  of  carrying  his 
little  brother  home  on  his  back.  And  this  deed  the  noble  fellow 
accomplished.  For  two  long  miles  did  he  carry  his  heavy  burden 
over  rocks  and  down  the  water-courses,  and  in  a  hour  after  he 
reached  his  father's  cabin  the  younger  child  was  dead  ;  and  the 
heroic  boy  was  in  a  state  of  insensibility  from  the  fatigue  and 
heat  which  he  had  experienced.  He  recovered,  however,  and 
is  now  apparently  in  the  enjoyment  of  good  health,  though  when 
I  fixed  my  admiring  eyes  upon  him,  it  seemed  to  me  that  he 
was  far  from  being  strong,  and  it  was  evident  that  a  shadow 
rested  upon  his  brow. 


'I- 


Hk'., 


-,Kgg«, 


TRAIL    MOUNTAIN. 


I  NOW  write  from  near  the  Bummit  of  the  highest  mountain 
in  Georgia.  I  ohtained  my  first  view  of  this  peak  while  in  the 
village  of  Clarksville,  and  it  presented  .such  a  commanding 
appearance,  that  I  resolved  to  surmount  it,  on  my  way  to  the 
North,  although  my  experience  has  proven  that  climbing  high 
mountains  is  always  more  laborious  than  profitable.  I  came 
here  on  the  back  of  a  mule,  and  my  guide  and  companion  on 
the  occasion  was  the  principal  proprietor  of  Nacoochee  valley, 
Major  Edward  Williams.  While  ascending  the  mountain, 
which  occupied  about  seven  hours,  (from  his  residence,)  the 
venerable  gentleman  expatiated  at  considerable  length  on  the 
superb  scenery  to  be  witnessed  from  its  summit,  and  then 
informed  me  that  he  had  just  established  a  dairy  on  the  moun- 
tain, which,  it  was  easy  to  see,  had  become  his  hobby.  He 
described  the  "ranges"  of  the  mountains  as  afibrding  an 
abundance  of  the  sweetest  food  for  cattle,  and  said  that  he  had 
already  sent  to  his  dairy  somewhere  between  fifty  and  eighty 
cows,  and  was  intending  soon  to  increase  the  number  to  one 
hundred.  He  told  me*  that  his  dairyman  was  an  excellent 
young  man  from  Vermont,  named  Joseph  E.  Hubbard,  to  whom 
he  was  indebted  for  the  original  idea  of  establishing  the  dairy. 
While  journeying  through  this  region  the  young  man  chanced 
to  &top  at  the  Major's  house,  and  though  they  were  perfect 
strangers,  they  conversed  upon  matters  connected  with  farming, 
and  soon  became  acquainted ;  and  the  stranger  having  made 
known  the  fact  that  he  knew  how  to  make  butter  and  cheese,  a 
bargain  was  struck,  which  has  resulted  in  the  establisliment 


TRAIL  MOUNTAIN. 


375 


already  mentioned.  The  Williams  dairy  is  said  to  be.  the  only 
one  iii  the  entire  State  of  Georgia,  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
in  this  connection,  that  Major  Williams  (as  well  as  his  dairy- 
man) is  a  native  of  New- England.  He  has  been  an  exile  from 
Yankee  land  for  upwards  of  twenty  years,  and  though  nearly 
seventy  years  of  age,  it  appears  that  his  natural  spirit  of 
enterprise  remains  in  full  vigor. 

Triil  Mountain  was  so  named  by  the  Cherokees,  from  the 
fact  that  they  once  had  a  number  of  trails  leading  to  the  sum- 
mit, to  which  point  they  were  in  the  habit  of  ascending  for  the 
purpose  of  discovering  the  camp-fires  of  their  enemies  during 
the  existence  of  hostilities.  It  ia  the  king  of  the  Blue  Ridge, 
and  reported  to  be  five  thousand  feet  above  the  waters  of  the 
surrr  anding  country,  and  Perhaps  six  thousand  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  ocean.  A  carpet  of  green  grass  and  weeds  extends 
to  the  very  top,  and  as  the  trees  a^-e  small,  as  well  as  "  few  and 
far  between,"  the  lover  of  extensive  scenery  has  a  fine  oppor- 
tunity of  gratifying  his  taste.  I  witnessed  a  sunset  from  this 
great  watch-tower  of  the  South,  and  I  know  not  that  I  was  ever 
before  more  deeply  impressed  with  the  grandeur  of  a  landscape 
The  horizon  formed  an  unbroken  circle,  br.t  I  could 


scone. 


distinctly  see  that  in  one  direction  alone  (across  Soutn  Carolina 
and  part  of  Georgia)  extended  a  comparatively  level  country, 
while  the  remaining  three-quarters  of  the  space  around  me 
appeared  to  be  a  wilderness  of  mountains.  The  grandest 
display  was  towards  the  north,  and  here  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
could  count  at  least  twenty  distinct  ranges,  fading  away  to  the 
sky,  until  the  more  remote  range  melted  into  a  monotonous  line. 
No  cities  or  towns  came  within  the  limit  of  my  vision ;  no,  nor 
even  an  occasional  wreath  of  smoke,  to  remind  me  that  human 
hearts  were  beating  in  the  unnumbered  valleys.  A  crimson 
hue  covered  the  sky,  but  it  was  without  a  cloud  to  cheer  the 
prospect,  and  the  solemn  shadow  which  rested  upon  the  moun- 
tains was  too  deep  to  partake  of  a  single  hue  from  the  departing 
sun.  Grandeur  and  gloom,  like  twin  spirits,  seemed  to  have 
subdued  the  world,  causing  the  pulse  of  nature  to  cease  its 
accustomed  throb.     "At  one  stride  came  the  dark,"  and  as 


Pi    , 


"TA 


M 


P'>-: 


lr4«**Wl| 


Jf^ 


■W:     -1 


^■1. 


m^'^ 


1 


376 


TRAIL  MOUNTAIN. 


there  was  no  moon,  I  retreated  from  the  peak  with  pleasure, 
and  sought  the  rude  cabin,  where  I  was  to  spend  the  night. 
While  doing  this,  the  distant  howl  of  a  wolf  came  to  my  ear, 
borne  upward  9n  the  quiet  air  from  one  of  the  deep  ravines 
leading  to  the  base  of  the  mountain. 

As  I  was  the  guest  of  my  friends  Williams  and  Hubbard,  I 
wiled  away  the  evening  in  their  society,  asking  and  answering 
a  thousand  questions.  Among  the  matters  touched  upon  in 
our  conversation  was  a  certain  mysterious  "  water-spout,"  of 
which  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  among  the  people  in  my  jour- 
neying, and  which  was  said  to  have  fallen  upon  Trail  Mountain. 
I  again  inquired  into  the  particulars,  and  Major  Williams  re- 
plied as  follows : 

"  This  water-spout  story  has  always  been  a  great  botheration 
to  me.  The  circumstance  occurred  several  years  ago.  A 
number  of  hunters  were  spending  the  night  in  the  very  ravine 
where  this  shanty  now  stands,  when,  about  midnight,  thoy 
they  heard  a  tremendous  roaring  in  the  air,  and  a  large  torrent 
of  water  fell  upon  their  camp  and  swept  it,  with  all  its  effects 
and  its  inmates,  about  a  dozen  yards  from  the  spot  where  they 
had  planted  their  polls.  There  were  three  hunters,  and  one  of 
them  was  severely  injured  on  the  head  by  the  water,  and  all  of 
them  completely  drenched.  They  wero  of  course  much  alarmed 
at  the  event,  and  concluded  that  a  spring  farther  up  the  moun- 
tain had  probably  broken  away ;  but  when  morning  came  they 
could  find  no  evidences  of  a  spring,  and  every  where  above 
their  camping  place  the  ground  was  perfectly  dry,  while  on  the 
lower  side  it  was  completely  saturated.  They  wero  now  per- 
plexed to  a  marvellous  degree,  and  returned  to  the  lower  coun- 
try impressed  with  the  idea  that  a  water-spout  had  burst  over 
their  heads." 

I  of  course  attempted  no  explanation  of  this  phenomenon, 
but  Mr.  Hubbard  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  if  the  afiair  actually 
did  occur,  it  originated  from  a  whirlwind,  which  might  have 
taken  up  the  water  from  some  neighboring  river,  and  dashed  it 
by  the  merest  accident  upon  the  poor  hunters.  But  this  rea- 
soning seemed  to  me  like  getting  '^  out  of  the  frying  pan  into 


TRAIL  MOUNTAIN. 


377 


the  fire ;"  Tvhereupon  I  concluded  to  "  tell  the  tale  as  'twas  told 
to  me,"  for  the  especial  benefit  of  Professor  Espy. 

But  to  return  to  the  dairy,  which  is  unquestionably  the  chief 
attraction  (though  far  from  being  a  romantic  ^ne)  connected 
with  Trail  Mountain.  Heretofore  a  cheese  establishment  has 
been  associated  in  my  mind  with  broad  meadow  lands,  spacious 
and  well-furnished  out-houses,  and  a  convenient  market.  But 
here  we  have  a  dairy  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  distant  from  the 
first  farm-house  some  fifteen  miles,  and  inaccessible  by  any 
conveyance  but  that  of  a  mule  or  well-trained  horse.  The  bells 
of  more  than  half  a  hundred  cows  are  echoing  along  the  moun- 
tain side ;  and,  instead  of  clover,  they  are  feeding  upon  the 
luxuriant  grasses  and  weeds  of  the  wilderness ;  instead  of  cool 
cellars,  we  have  here  a  hundred  tin  pans  arranged  upon  tables 
in  a  log  cabin,  into  which  a  cool  spring  pours  its  refreshing 
treasure  j  instead  of  a  tidy  and  matronly  housewife  to  super- 
intend the  turning  of  the  curd,  we  have  an  enterprising  young 
Yankee,  a  veritable  Green  Mountain  boy ;  and  instead  of  pretty 
milkmaids,  the  inferiors  of  this  establishment  are  huge  negroes, 
and  all  of  the  masculine  gender.  And  this  is  the  establishment 
which  supplies  the  people  of  Georgia  with  cheese,  and  the  ma- 
terial out  of  which  the  scientific  caterer  manufactures  the  palat- 
able Welsh  Rabbit. 


:B*^r 


»««« 


■^ 


DOWN    THE    OWASSA. 


,•,1 


The  distance  from  Hubbard's  Cabin,  on  Trail  Mountain,  to 
the  Owassa  River,  in  a  direct  line,  is  eight  miles,  but  by  the 
ordinary  mule-route  it  is  thirteen.  Ih  coming  to  this  river,  I 
took  the  direct  route,  albeit  my  only  guide  was  an  ancient 
Indian  trail.  My  friend  Hubbard  doubted  whether  I  could 
make  the  trip  alone,  but  I  was  anxious  to  save  time  and  labor, 
so  I  determined  on  trying  the  experiment.  I  shouldered  my 
knapsack,  and  stai'ted  immediately  after  an  early  breakfast, 
and  for  a  distance  of  two  miles  every  thing  turned  out  to  my 
entire  satisfaction.  I  was  now  standing  upon  the  extreme  sum- 
mit of  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  within  a  stone's  throw  of  two  springs 
which  empty  their  several  waters  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and 
and  the  Ohio  river.  While  stopping  here  to  obtain  a  little 
breath,  I  discovered  a  large  spot  of  bare  earth,  which  I  took  to 
be  a  deer  yard,  and  directly  across  the  middle  of  it  the  fresh 
tracks  of  a  large  wolf.  I  had  no  gun  with  me,  and  this  dis- 
covery made  me  a  little  nervous,  which  resulted,  as  I  proceeded 
on  my  journey,  in  my  losing  the  trail  upon  which  I  had  started. 
I  Boon  came  to  a  brook,  however,  which  rushed  down  an  im- 
mense ravine  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  and  I  continued 
my  way  feeling  quite  secure.  My  course  lay  down,  down, 
down,  and  then,  as  I  wandered  from  the  brook,  it  was  up,  up, 
up.  At  <-he  rate  that  I  travelled  I  know  that  I  ought  to  roach 
my  place  of  destination  in  at  least  one  hour,  but  four  hours 
elapsed,  "nnd  I  reluctantly  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was 
most  decidedly  lost,  and  that,  too,  among  what  I  fancied  to  be 
the  wildest  and  most  lonely  mountains  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 


f'r'fei 


DOAVN  THE  OWASSA. 


879 


Then  camp  the  thought  of  spending  the  night  in  the  wilderness, 
alone  and  unprotected,  to  be  destroyed  by  the  wild  animals,  or 
to  be  starved  to  death.  I  resolved,  however,  to  continue  along 
the  brook,  knowing  that  it  must  come  out  "  somewhere ;"  and, 
as  I  was  by  this  time  in  a  most  painful  state  of  excitement,  I 
clambered  up  the  cliffs  and  ran  down  the  hills  at  what  now  ap- 
pears to  me  to  have  been  a  fearful  rate.  The  sun  was  exces- 
sively hot,  and  at  every  rivulet  that  I  crossed  I  stopped  to  slake 
my  thirst.  The  brook  was  constantly  making  a  new  turn,  and 
leaping  over  ledges  of  rocks  more  than  a  hundred  feet  high,  and 
every  new  bluff  that  I  saw  (and  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to 
them)  began  to  shoot  a  pang  to  my  bewildered  brain.  At  one 
time  I  startled  a  herd  of  deer  from  a  cool  ravine,  where  they  were 
spending  the  noontide  hours ;  and  on  one  occasion  I  was  within 
a  single  foot  of  stepping  on  a  rattlesnake,  and  when  I  heard 
his  fearful  rattle  I  made  a  leap  which  would  have  astonished 
even  Sands,  Lent  &  Co.,  or  any  other  circus  magicians.  It 
was  now  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and  my  blood  seemed  to 
have  reached  the  temperature  of  boiling  heat ;  my  heart  began 
to  palpitate,  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  critics  would 
never  again  have  an  opportunity  of  doubting  my  adventures  in 
the  wilderness.  Just  in  the  nick  of  time,  however,  I  heard  the 
howling  music  of  a  pack  of  hounds,  and  in  a  few  moments  a 
beautiful  doe  and  some  half  a  dozen  dogs  shot  across  my  path 
like  a  "rushing  mighty  wind.".  This  little  incident  led  me  to 
believe  that  I  was  not  very  far  from  a  settlement,  and  had  a 
tendency  to  revive  my  spirits.  The  result  was  that  I  reached 
the  cottage  of  an  old  gentleman  named  Riley,  in  the  valley  of 
Owassa,  just  as  the  sun  was  setting,  where  I  was  treated  with 
the  utmost  kindness  by  his  consort — having  travelled  at  least 
twenty  miles  on  account  of  my  mishap.  I  had  lost  my  appe- 
tite, but  was  persuaded  to  drink  two  cups  of  coffee  and  then 
retire  to  bed.  I  slept  until  daybreak,  without  being  visited  by 
an  unpleasant  dream,  and  arose  on  the  following  morning  a  now 
man.  On  the  next  day  I  travelled  down  the  Owassa  valley  a 
distance  of  thirty  miles,  until  I  reached  the  very  pretty  place 
where  I  am  now  tarrjing.    The  Cherokee  word  Owassa  sigiiifieB 


N.I    "^>ii 


m^' — 


880 


DOWN  THE  OWASSA. 


:'i  "  >»»^#f■ 


^'^^•- 


U 


the  main  river,  or  the  largest  of  the  tributaries :  and  the  para- 
phrase of  this  name  into  Hiowasse  by  the  map-makers  is  a  ridi- 
culous blunder.  So  I  have  been  informed,  at  any  rate,  by  one 
of  the  oldest  Cherokees  now  living.  The  Owassa  is  a  tributary 
of  the  noble  Tennessee,  and  is  as  clear,  beautiful,  rapid  and 
picturesqr  e  a  mountain  river  as  I  have  ever  seen.  At  Riley's 
cottage  it  is  perhaps  one  hundred  feet  wide,  and  at  this  point 
it  is  not  far  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards.  It  is  quite 
circuitous  in  its  course,  and  the  valley  through  which  it  runs 
is  narrow,  but  very  fertile  and  pretty  well  cultivated.  The 
people  live  almost  exclusively  in  log  cabins,  and  appear  to  be 
intelligent  and  moral,  though  apparently  destitute  of  all 
enterprise. 

The  principal  novelty  that  I  noticed  on  the  road  to  this  place 
was  the  spot  known  as  Fort  Emhree.  Thd  only  evidences  that 
there  ever  was  a  fortification  here  are  a  breastwork  of  timber, 
a  lot  of  demolished  pickets,  and  two  or  three  block-houses, 
which  are  now  in  a  dilapidated  condition.  The  site  is  a  com- 
manding one,  and  takes  in  some  of  the  grandest  mountain  out- 
lines that  I  have  yet  seen.  This  fort,  so  cslled,  was  made  by 
order  of  the  General  Government  for  the  purpose  of  herding 
the  poor  Cherokees  previous  to  their  final  banishment  into  exile 
— a  most  humane  and  *7'iri8tian-like  work,  indeed !  How  re- 
luctant the  Indians  woe  to  leavo  this  beautiful  land  may  be 
shown  by  tbo  fact,  that  a.  number  of  women  destroyed  them- 
selves within  this  very  fort  rather  than  be  driven  beyond  the 
Mississippi.  And  a  gentleman  who  saw  the  Indians,  when 
they  were  removed,  tells  me  that  they  were  actually  diiven 
along  the  road  like  a  herd  of  wild  and  unruly  animals,  a  num- 
ber of  them  having  been  shot  down  in  the  vicinity  of  this  place. 
All  these  things  may  have  been  published,  but  I  have  never 
seen  them  in  print;  and  I  now  put  them  in  print  with  the  view 
of  shaming  our  heartless  and  cruel  Government  for  its  unna- 
tural conduct  in  times  past.  The  Cherokees  were  a  nation  of 
mountaineei  s,  and,  had  a  wise  policy  been  pursued  with  regard 
to  them,  they  might  now  be  chasing  the  deer  upon  these  moun- 
tains, while  all  the  valleys  of  the  land  might  have  been  in  a 


DOWN  THE  OWASSA. 


881 


nI-/'*' 


state  of  cultivation,  evea  as  they  are  now.  Not  only  would 
they  have  had  the  happiness  of  hunting  their  favorite  game 
upon  their  native  hills,  hut  they  might  have  heen  educated 
with  more  real  satisfaction  to  themselves  than  they  tuu  be  in 
the  Far  West.  In  proof  of  the  opinion  that  they  might  have 
lived  here  in  honor  and  comfort,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the 
few  Cherokees  who  were  permitted  to  remain  in  Carolina,  are 
now  considered  the  most  frugal  and  inoffensive  of  the  entire  ' 
population  ;  and  the  United  States  District  Attorney  residing 
in  Cherokee  county,  informs  me,  that  of  five  hundred  indi- 
viduals whom  he  has  had  to  prosecute  within  the  last  five  years, 
only  one  of  them  was  an  Indian,  r\nd  he  was  led  into  his  difii- 
culty  by  a  drunken  white  man.  But  this  is  a  theme  that  I 
could  write  upon  for  days,  so  I  will  turn  to  something  more 
appropriate  to  my  present  purpose. 

In  coming  down  the  valley  of  Owassa,  I  met  with  a  number 
of  inciuents  which  I  fancy  worth  mentioning.  For  example, 
in  passing  along  a  certain  road  in  Union  county,  Georgia,  I 
approached  a  ricketty  log  cabin,  and  was  surp?!:od  to  see  the 
family  and  all  the  dogs  vacate  the  premises,  as  if  I  had  been  a 
personified  plague.  I  was  subsequently  informed  that  this  was 
a  common  habit  with  the  more  barbarous  people  of  this  region, 
when  they  see  a  strangei:  passing  along  the  road. 

Among  the  characteristic  travelling  establishments  that  I 
met  in  the  above  country,  was  the  following :  a  very  small  co- 
vered wagon,  (drawn  by  one  mule  and  one  deforined  horse,) 
which  was  laden  with  corn-husk,  a  few  bedclothes,  and  several 
rude  cooking  utensils.  Behind  "-^  is  team  marched  a  man  and 
his  wife,  five  boys,  and  eiglit  girls,  and  in  their  rear  the  skele- 
ton of  a  cow  and  four  hungry-looking  dogs.  They  had  been 
farming  in  Union  county,  but  were  now  on  their  wa;^  into  Ha- 
bersham county  in  search  of  a  new  location.  The  youiigest 
daughter  belonging  to  this  family,  as  I  casually  found  out  by 
giving  her  a  small  piece  of  money,  was  Dorcas  Ann  Eliza  Jane 
Charlotte.  On  hearing  this  startling  information  I  could  not 
wonder  that  the  family  were  poor,  and  had  a  thorny  road  to 
pursue  through  life.  • 


•ui  <■  .-.1,       ^y 


382 


DOWN  THE  OWASSA. 


But  the  most  ''.nique  incident  that  I  picked  up  on  the  day  in 
question,  may  be  narrated  as  follows :  I  was  quietly  jogging 
along  the  road,  when  I  was  startled  by  the  dropping  of  a  snake 
from  a  small  tree.  I  stopped  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and 
discovered  it  to  be  a  black  snake  or  racer,  and  that  he  had  in 
his  mouth  the  tail-end  of  a  scarlet  lizard,  about  five  inches 
long.  It  was  evident  the  snake  had  some  diflSculty  in  swallow- 
ing the  precious  morsel,  and  while  he  seemed  to  bo  preparing 
for  another  effort,  I  saw  the  lizard  twist  'its  body  and  bite  the 
snake  directly  on  the  back  of  the  head,  which  caused  the  latter 
to  loosen  his  hold.  Again  did  I  see  the  snake  attack  the 
lizard,  and  a  second  time  did  the  lizard  uite  tb  ;  snake,  where- 
upon the  serpent  gave  up  the  fight,  and,  while  I  was  hunting 
for  a  stick  to  kill  the  serpent,  both  of  the  reptiles  made  their 
escape. 

The  little  village  of  Murphy,  whence  I  date  this  letter,  lies 
at  the  junction  of  the  Owassa  and  Valley  rivers,  and  in  point 
of  location  is  one  of  the  prettiest  places  in  the  world.  Its  In- 
dian name  was  Klausuna,  or  the  Large  Turtle.  It  was  so 
called,  says  a  Cherokee  legend,  on  account  of  its  being  the 
sunning  place  of  an  immense  turtle  which  lived  in  its  vicinity 
in  ancient  times.  The  turtle  was  particularly  famous  for  its 
repelling  power,  having  been  known  not  to  be  at  all  injured  by  a 
stroke  of  lightning.  Nothing  on  earth  had  power  to  annihilate 
tl  e  creature  ;  but,  on  account  of  the  many  attempt"  made  to 
t  ike  its  life,  when  it  was  known  to  be  a  harmless  and  inoffen- 
Eive  creature,  it  became  disgusted  with  this  world,  and  bur- 
r  owed  its  way  into  the  middle  of  the  earth,  where  it  now  lives 
ii\  peace. 

In  connection  with  this  legend,  I  may  here  mention  what 
m\'st  be  considered  a  remarkable  fact  in  geology.  Running 
dirv  ctly  across  the  village  of  Murphy  is  a  belt  of  marble,  com- 
posed of  the  black,  gray,  pure  white,  and  flesh-colored  varie- 
ties, which  belt  also  crosses  the  Owassa  river.  Just  above  this 
marble  causeway,  the  Owassa,  for  a  space  of  perhaps  two  hun- 
dred feet,  is  said  to  be  over  one  hundr  d  feet  deep,  and  at  one 
point,  in  fact,  a  bottom  has  never  been  found.    All  this  is 


DOWN  THE  OWASSA. 


383 


sim  )le  truth,  but  I  have  heard  the  opinion  expressed  that  there 
is  a  subterranean  communication  between  this  iiXimense  hole  in 
Owassa  and  the  river  Notely,  which  is  some  two  miles  distant. 
The  testimony  adduced  in  proof  of  this  theory  is,  that  a  cer- 
tain log  was  once  marked  on  the  Notely,  which  was  subse- 
quently found  floating  in  the  pool  of  the  Deep  Hole  in  the 
Owassa. 


\  U   '  '      " 


■■a  J 


'*■■'■    'I'M 


•    »! 


WH0^ 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


The  distance  from  Murphy  to  Franklin  village  is  reported  to 
be  fifty  miles.  For  twenty  miles  the  road  runs  in  full  view  of 
Valley  river,  which  is  worthy  in  every  particular  of  the  stream 
into  which  it  empties,  the  Owassa.  It  is  a  remarkably  cold  and 
translucent  stream,  and  looks  as  if  it  ought  to  contain  trout, 
but  I  am  certain  that  it  does  not.  On  inquiring  of  a  homespun 
angler  what  fish  the  river  did  produce,  he  replied :  '*  Salmon, 
black  trout,  red  horse,  hog-fish,  suckers  and  cat-fish."  I  took 
the  liberty  of  doubting  the  gentleman's  word,  and  subsequently 
found  out  that  the  people  of  this  section  of  country  call  the 
legitimate  pickerel  the  "salmon,"  the  black  bass  the  "black 
trout,"  the  mullet  the  "  red  horse,"  and  a  deformed  sucker  the 
"  hog-fish."  And  now,  while  I  think  of  it,  I  would  intimate  to 
my  friends  residing  on  the  Ohio  (to  which  glorious  river  all  the 
streams  of  this  region  pay  tribute)  that  their  salmon  is  none 
other  than  the  genuine  pickerel  of  the  North  and  South,  their 
white  perch  only  the  sheep's  head  of  the  great  lakes,  and  their 
black  perch  is  but  another  name  for  thn  bls,ck  or  Oswego  bass. 
So  much  for  a  piscatorial  correction. 

The  only  picture  which  attracted  my  particular  attention  in 
passing  up  the  fertile  but  generally  neglected  bottom  lands  of 
Valley  river,  was  a  farm  of  twenty-five  hundred  acres,  one 
thousand  acres  being  as  level  as  a  floor  and  highly  cultivated. 
The  soil  seemed  exceedingly  rich,  and  it  was  evident  yielded  a 
considerable  income  to  its  possessor.  I  heard,  in  fixct,  that  the 
proprietor  had  been  offered  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  for  this 
farm.     And 'in  what  kind  of  a  house  does  my  reader  imagine 


"^•^M 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


385 


this  wealthy  man  resided  ?  In  a  miserable  log  hovel,  a  decayed 
and  windowless  one,  which  a  respectable  member  of  the  swine 
family  would  hardly  deign  to  occupy.  Instances  something 
like  this  had  already  come  to  my  knowledge,  and  caused  me 
to  wonder  at  the  inconsistency  and  apparent  want  of  common 
sense  manifested  by  some  of  the  farmers  of  this  country ;  but 
this  instance  capped  the  climax.  But  again,  the  individual 
alluded  to  is  a  white  man,  and  prides  himself  upon  being  more 
intelligent  and  acute  than  his  neighbors ;  and  yet  one  of  his 
neighbors  is  an  Indian  woman,  who  raises  only  about  five  thou- 
sand bushels  of  potatoes  per  annum,  but  occupies  a  comfortable 
dwelling  and  lives  like  a  rational  being. 

After  leaving  the  above  valley,  my  course  lay  over  two  dis- 
tinct spurs  of  the  Aileghanies,  which  are  divided  by  the  river 
Nan-ti-ha-lah,  and  consequently  called  the  Nan-ti-ha-lah  Moun- 
tains. In  ascending  the  western  ridge,  I  noticed  that  at  the 
foot  and  midway  up  the  pass  the  trees  were  all  arrayed  in  their 
summer  verdure,  and  among  the  forest  trees  were  many  chestnut 
and  poplar  specimens,  which  were  at  least  seven  or  eight  feet  in 
diameter ;  while  the  more  elevated  portions  of  the  ridge  were 
covered  with  scrub  and  white  oak,  which  were  entirely  destitute 
of  foliage  and  not  even  in  the  budding  condition.  No  regular 
cliffs  frowned  upon  me  as  I  passed  along,  but  the  mountains  on 
either  side  were  almost  perpendicular,  and  in  one  or  two  places 
were  at  least  twenty-five  hundred  feet  high.  In  the  side  of  the 
highest  of  these  mountains,  I  was  informed,  is  a  deep  fissure  or 
cave,  which  extends  to  the  summit  of  the  hill,  where  the  outlet 
is  quite  small.  When  the  wind  is  blowing  from  the  northwest 
it  passes  entirely  through  this  long  arid  mysterious  cavern,  and 
when  issuing  from  the  top  comes  with  such  force  as  to  throw 
out  all  the  smaller  stones  which  one  may  happen  to  drop  therein. 
In  descending  this  spur,  the  road  passes  directly  along  the 
margin  of  the  most  gloomy  thicket  imaginable.  It  is  about  a 
mile  wide  and  somewhat  over  three  miles  in  length.  It  is  rank 
with  vegetation,  and  the  principal  trees  are  laurel,  pine,  and 
cedar.  Ev3n  at  noonday  it  is  impossible  to  look  into  it  more 
than  half  a  dozen  yards,  and  then  you  but  peernnto  the  open- 
26 


ii 


"-4^l-^« 


m 


p-ii 


\i 


386 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


ing  of  leafy  caves  and  grottos  ■which  are  perpetually  cool  and 
very  desolate.  It  is  said  to  abound  in  the  more  ferocious  of 
wild  animals,  and  no  •white  man  is  yet  known  to  have  mustered 
courage  enough  to  explore  the  jungle.  During  the  existence 
of  the  Cherokee  difficulties,  the  Indians  were  in  the  habit  of 
encamping  on  many  places  on  its  margin  for  the  purpose  of 
easily  eluding  their  pursuers ;  and  it  is  reported  of  one  Indian 
hunter,  who  once  entered  the  thicket,  that  he  never  returned, 
having,  as  is  supposed,  been  overpowered  by  some  wild  beast. 
It  was  upon  the  margin  of  this  horrible  place,  too,  that  the  fol- 
lowing incident  occurred :  An  Indian  woman  once  happened  to 
bo  trar  H'  ig  down  the  mountain,  unaccompanied  by  her  hus- 
band, but  with  three  young  children,  two  little  girls  and  a 
papoose.  In  an  unexpected  moment  an  enraged  panther  crossed 
their  trail,  and  while  it  fell  upon  and  destroyed  the  mother  and 
one  child,  the  elder  girl  ran  for  her  life,  carrying  the  infant  on 
her  back.  The  little  heroine  had  not  gone  over  a  half  a  mile 
with  her  burden  before  the  panther  caught  up  with  her,  and 
dragged  the  infant  from  her  grasp ;  and  while  the  savage  crea- 
ture was  destroying  this  third  victim,  the  little  girl  made  her 
escape  to  a  neighboring  encampment. 

The  river  Nan-ti-ha-lah,  or  the  Woman's  Bosom,  was  so  named 
on  account  of  its  undulating  and  narrow  valley,  and  its  own  in- 
trinsic purity  and  loveliness.  Upon  this  river  is  situated  a  rude 
but  comfortable  cabin,  which  is  the  only  one  the  traveller  meets 
with  in  going  a  distance  of  twenty  miles.  On  first  approaching 
this  cabin,  I  noticed  a  couple  of  sweet  little  girls  playing  on 
the  greensward  before  the  door  with  a  beautiful  fawn,  which 
was  as  tame  as  a  lamb.  This  group,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  wildness  of  the  surrounding  scene,  gave  mo  a  most  delight- 
ful feeling,  the  contrast  was  so  strange  and  unexpected.  The 
proprietor  of  the  cabin  owns  about  five  thousand  acres  of  land 
in  this  wilderness  region,  and  is  by  profession  a  grazing  farmer. 
He  raises  a  goodly  number  of  cattle  as  well  as  horses  and  mules, 
and  his  principal  markets  for  them  are  Charleston  and  Savan- 
nah, to  which  cities  he  performs  a  pilgrimage  in  the  autumn  of 
every  year.     He  is  one  of  the  "oldest  inhabitants"  of  the  re- 


■.i  'U"     ^• 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


887 


gion,  and  as  I  ?pent  ono  night  under  his  roof,  I  took  occasion 
to  draw  from  nim  a  few  anecdotes  connected  with  his  own  ex- 
perience. On  questioning  him  with  regard  to  the  true  character 
of  the  panther,  he  replied  as  follows :  "  I  don't  know  muck 
about  this  animal,  but  I  have  had  one  chance  to  study  their  na- 
ture, which  I  can't  forget.  It  was  a  very  dark  night,  and  I 
was  belated  on  the  western  ridge,  near  the  Big  Laurel  ravine. 
I  was  jogging  along  at  a  slow  rate,  when  my  horse  made  a  ter- 
rible leap  aside,  and  I  saw  directly  in  front  of  me  one  of  the 
biggest  of  panthers.  He  boon  uttered  a  shriek  or  scream  (whicb 
sounded  like  a  woman  in  distress)  and  got  out  of  the  way,  so 
that  I  could  pass  along.  Every  bone  in  my  horse's  body  trem- 
bled with  fear,  and  I  can  tell  you  that  my  own  feelings  were 
pretty  squally.  On  my  way  was  I  still  jogging,  when  the  pan- 
ther again  made  his  appearance,  just  as  he  had  before,  and 
gave  another  of  his  infernal  yells.  I  had  no  weapon  with  me, 
and  I  now  thought  I  was  a  gone  case.  Again  did  the  animal 
disappear,  and  again  did  I  continue  on  my  journey.  I  had  not 
gone  more  than  a  hundred  yards  before  I  saw,  on  the  upper 
side  of  the  road,  what  looked  like  a  couple  of  balls  of  fire,  and 
just  as  I  endeavored  to  urge  my  horse  a  little  faster,  another 
dreadful  scream  rang  far  down  the  valley.  But,  to  make  a  long 
story  short,  this  animal  followed  me  until  I  got  within  a  half  a 
mile  of  my  house,  and,  though  he  ran  around  mo  at  least  a 
dozen  times,  and  uttered  more  than  a  dozen  screams,  he  never 
touched  me,  and  I  got  safely  home.  If  you  can  gather  any 
information  from  this  adventure  you  are  welcome  to  it ;  but  all 
I  know  about  the  animal  is  this,  that  I  hate  him  as  I  do  the 
devil." 

My  host  informed  me  that  he  was  one  of  the  men  appointed 
by  the  Government  to  assess  the  property  of  the  Cherokee^  at 
the  time  of  their  removal,  and  was  subsequently  employed  to 
aid  in  their  coerced  removal.  With  a  view  of  pacifying  the 
Indians,  it  had  beeii  stipulated  that  the  cabin  and  improvements 
of  each  Indian  should  be  assessed,  and  an  equivalent  in  money 
should.be  paid  into  his  hands  for  said  property ;  and  a  part  of 
the  nation,  it  will  be  remembered,  including  (he  head  chief, 


2 


-»*■ 


888 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


were  opposed  to  the  treaty  of  banishment.  In  fulfilling  V'j 
duties  as  a  Government  officer,  my  informant  endured  many 
hardships,  subjected  himself  to  much  peril,  and  met  with  many 
touching  as  well  as  some  ridiculous  scenes.  In  the  course  of  a 
few  months  he  visited,  in  connection  with  his  assistant  and  in- 
terpreter, every  cabin  in  the  counties  of  Cherokee  and  Macon ; 
and,  from  the  numerous  adventures  which  he  related  to  me,  I 
will  record  two  or  three. 

"  At  one  time,"  said  my  friend,  "  we  arrived  at  a  cabin  where 
we  knew  resided,  '  solitary  and  alone,'  an  old  bachelor  Indian. 
It  was  night,  and  very  cold  and  stormy.  As  we  were  tying  our 
horses  the  Indian  heard  us,  and,  knowing  our  business,  imme- 
diately arose  and  fastened  his  door  that  we  should  not  get  in. 
We  remonstrated  from  without,  and  told  him  we  were  almost 
frozen,  and  he  murit  admit  us,  but  never  a  word  would  he  answer ; 
and  this  was  repeated  several  times.  We  finally  got  mad  and 
knocked  down  the  door  and  entered.  The  Indian  was  lying 
upon  a  bench  before  the  fire,  and  by  his  side  were  four  dogs. 
We  asked  him  a  number  of  questions,  but  still  did  he  keep 
silent.  We  had  by  this  time  made  up  our  minds  to  *  take  care 
of  number  one,'  and  proceeded  to  cook  our  bacon.  In  doing 
this  we  had  great  difficulty  on  account  of  the  dogs,  which  were 
almost  starved  to  death,  and  were  constantly  grabbing  up  our 
victuals  from  the  coals.  They  were  the  ugliest  animals  that  I 
ever  saw,  and  did  not  care  a  pin  for  the  heavy  licks  that  we 
gave  them.  And  the  only  way  we  could  get  along  was  for  the 
interpreter  to  cook  the  meat,  while  my  assistant  and  myself 
seated  ourselves  at  the  two  corners  of  the  hearth,  and  as  the 
dogs  jumped  over  the  body  of  the  Indian,  (who  was  yet  lying 
on  his  bench,)  m'o  would  grab  them  by  the  neck  and  tail  and 
pitfih  them  across  the  room.  So  this  interesting  business  con- 
tinued until  the  meat  was  cooked.  I  then  took  a  slice,  put  it 
on  a  piece  of  bread,  and  giving  it  to  the  Indian,  said  to  him : 
'  Now  don't  be  a  fool,  take  this  meat  and  be  good  friends,  for 
we  don't  want  to  injure  you.'  Whereupon  he  got  over  his  re- 
sentment, took  the  meat,  and  began  talking  so  that  we  could 
not  stop  him." 


ACROSS  TDE  MOUNTAINS. 


889 


But  another  incident  related  to  me  was  truly  affecting,  and 
occurred  at  the  time  of  removal.  "There  was  an  old  Indian," 
continued  my  host,  "named  Euchellah,  who  had  thrown  out 
the  idea  that  he  was  a  strong  man,  and  never  would  submit  to 
leave  his  cabin  willingly ;  those  who  wanted  him  to  go  must  take  . 
him  by  force.  It  was  in  the  forenoon,  and  the  whole  posse  of 
officers  entered  his  cabin,  and  after  a  pretty  severe  scuffle  we 
succeeded  in  fastening  the  old  fellow's  arms  and  hands  with 
a  rope.  He  now  saw  that  Ife  must  go,  and  told  his  wife  to  get 
ready,  and  she  got  ready  by  going  out  to  feed  her  pig  and  the 
chickens,  just  as  if  she  was  coming  back  in  a  few  hours.  Wo 
tTien  started  with  our  prisoners,  and  just  as  we  were  crossing  a 
hill  which  overlooked  the  Indian's  cabin,  he  suddenly  wheeled 
about,  and  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  his  little  garden  and  his  hut, 
he  burst  into  tears,  and  I  thought  the  man's  heart  would  break. 
And  now  when  people  tell  me  that  the  Indian  never  weeps,  I 
tell  them  it's  no  such  thing ;  but,  it  was  true,  Euchellah  had 
some  reason  to  feel  bad ;  for  he  had  four  children  buried  near 
his  cabin,  and  had  lived  there  for  fifty  years.  We  continued  on  our 
way  to  the  West,  but  in  two  days  our  Indian  made  his  escape 
with  his  wife.  We  hunted  for  them  among  the  mountains,  and 
though  we  recaptured  Euchellah^we  never  could  find  his  wife, 
)ind  afterwards  heard  that  she  starved  to  death  on  a  distant 
mountain.  The  Indian  was  now  guarded  by  four  soldiers ;  but, 
while  crossing  a  certain  gap,  he  suddenly  rose  upon  his  keepers 
and  killed  three  of  them,  while  the  other  soldier,  as  well  as  himself? 
escaped.  The  Indian  was  again  taken  prisoner,  tried  by  a  court 
martial,  and  sentenced  to  be  executed.  When  told  that  he  Avas 
to  be  shot  down  by  a  rifle  ball,  ho  manifested  no  fear,  and,  up 
to  the  moment  that  he  was  shot  down,  not  a  tear  made  its  ap- 
pearance in  his  eye.  He  could  weep  on  leaviitg  his  home,  but 
he  would  not  weep  when  he  came  to  die.  And  the  old  man 
was  buried  on  the  road  side,  half  way  between  this  place  and 
Murphy." 

"  But  another  removal  incident  that  I  remember,"  continued 
my  landlord,  "  was  to  this  effect.  It  was  another  old  Indian 
who  had  a  large  family  and  was  religious.    When  we  called  to 


'*<%,  *■  '■' 


tfllWII 


'•%' 


:tiigwfai 


l^m 


'r%- 


^i^'^  f 

C-.'^-:"  '. 

!<:'"-::'■.{- 

i::>t>^ 

•y     MT 

(-  Ci 

\  1  '    -^ 

■I'^'vl  '  ^ ' 

'f^'^^^I^ 

"^^ 

■^<,m 

i 


890 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


mm 


'if* 


fll,::^- 


take  him,  he  said  he  only  wanted  to  aak  one  favor,  which  was, 
that  we  would  let  him  Jiaye  one  more  prayer  with  his  wife  and 
children  in  Ma  old  cabin.  .We  of  course  granted  the  request, 
and  when  he  was  through,  out  came  the  old  fellow  and  said  that 
he  was  ready.  But  just  as  we  were  leaving  the  little  clearing, 
the  Indian  called  his  wife  and  children  to  his  side,  and  talked 
to  them  in  the  most  poetical  and  affecting  manner  about  their 
meagre  but  much-loved  possession,  which  they  were  about  to 
leave  forever.  He  then  took  the  lead  of  our  procession,  and 
witiiout  uttering  a  woi'd,  marched  onward  with  a  firm  step. 
We  never  heard  this  man's  voice  again  until  we  had  passe4  be- 
yond the  Mississippi." 

The  scenery  lying  between  the  Nan-ti-ha-lah  and  this  place 
is  one  of  the  Avildcst  character.  From  the  summit  of  the  pass, 
and  along  the  road  as  you  descend  to  the  eastward,  a  number 
of  very  imposing  scenes  present  themselves,  but  chief  among 
all  the  hills  rises  the  rugged  peak  of  Bald  Mountain.  The 
prospect  from  this  point  is  similar,  to  that  which  I  have  des- 
cribed from  Trail  Mountain,  but  the  legend  which  commemor- 
ates the  place  is  quite  interesting,  and  accounts  for  the  baldness 
of  the  mountain's  top,  which  was  formerly  covered  with  a  dense 
forest.  The  Cherokees  relate  that  there  once  existed  among 
these  mountains  a  very  large  bird,  which  resepbled  in  appear- 
ance the  green-winged  hornet,  and  this  creature  was  in  the  habit 
of  carrying  off  the  younger  children  of  the  nation  who  hap- 
pened to  wander  into  the  woods.  Very  many  children  had 
mysteriously  disappeared  in  this  manner,  and  the  entire  people 
declared  a  warf9,ro  against  the  monster.  A  varitry  of  means 
were  employed  for  his  destruction,  but  without  success.  In 
process  of  time  it  was  determined  that  thu  wise  men  (or  medi- 
cine men)  of  the  nation  should  try  their  skill  in  the  business. 
They  met  in  council  and  agreed  that  each  one  should  station 
himself  on  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  and  that,  when  the  crea- 
ture was  discovered,  the  man  who  made  thd  discovery  should 
utter  a  loud  halloo,  which  shout  should  be  taken  up  by  his 
neighbor  on  the  next  mountain,  and  so  continued  to  the  end  of 
the  line,  that  all  the  men  might  have  a  shot  at  the  strai^e  bird. 


ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


391 


This  experime;  I  was  tried  and  resulted  in  finding  out  the  hid- 
ing-place of  the  monster,  which  was  a  deep  cavern  on  the  eas- 
tern side  of  the  Blue-Ridge  and  ai  the  fountain-head  of  the 
river  Too-ge-lah.  On  arriving  at  this  place,  they  found  the 
entrance  to  the  cavern  entirely  inaccessible  by  mortal  feet,  and 
they  therefore  prayed  to  the  Great  Spirit  that  he  would  bring 
out  the  bird  from  his  den,  and  place  him  within  the  reach .  of 
their  arms.  Their  petition  was  granted,  for  a  terrible  thunder- 
storm immediately  arose,  and  a  stroke  of  lightning  tore  away 
one-half  of  a  large  mountain,  and  the  Indians  were  successful 
in  slaying  their  enemy.  The  Great  Spirit  was  pleased  with  the 
courage  manifested  by  the  Cherokees  during  this  dangerous 
fight,  and,  with  a  view  of  rewarding  the  same,  he  willed  it  that 
all  the  highest  mountains  in  their  land  should  thereafter  be 
destitute  of  trees,  so  thi'.t  they  might  always  have  an  opportu- 
nity of  watching  the  movements  of  their  enemies. 

As  a  sequel  to  tliis  legend,  it  may  be  appropriately  mentioned, 
that  at  the  head  of  the  Too-ge-lah  is  to  be  found  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  curiosities  in  this  mountain  land.  It  is  a  grc- 
nite  cliff,  with  a  omooth  surface  or  front,  half  .a  mile  long,  and 
twelve  hundred  feet  high,  and  generally  spoken  of  in  this  part 
of  the  country  as  the  White-side  Mountain  or  the  DeviVs  Court- 
House.  To  think  of  it  '-^  almost  enough  to  make  one  dizzy,  but 
to  see  it  fills  one  with  awe.  Near  the  top  of  one  part  of  this 
cliff  is  a  small  cave,  which  can  be  reached  only  by  pa?  ing  over 
a  strip  of  rock  about  two  feet  wide.  One  man  only  has  ever 
been  known  to  enter  it,  and  when  he  had  performed  the  deed, 
he  met  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  a  large  bear,  which  animal, 
in  making  its  escape,  slipped  off  the  .rock,  fell  a  distance  of 
several  hundred  feet,  and  was  of  course  killed.  When  the  man 
saw  this,  he  became  so  much  excited  that  it  was  some  hours  be- 
fore ho  could  quiet  his  nerves  sufficiently  to  retrace  his  dan- 
gerous pathway. 


vm 

fl 

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t  ' 

■4: 

mMMH'.^ 

im^ 

W-- 

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iii. 

•^  i: 

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f'  ■  ■ 

^^  pi 


iii 


mi 


4i 

SI 


liP!-9 


THE    LITTLE    TENNESSEE. 


The  little  village  of  Franklin  is  romantically  situated  on  the 
Little  Tennessee.  It  is  surrounded  mth  mountains,  and  a 
quiet  and  pretty  hamlet.  On  the  morning  after  entering  this 
place,  I  went  to  the  post-office,  for  the  purpose  of  obtain!: ..  n, 
peep  at  the  last  number  of  the  Njitional  Intelligencer,  wr  f - 
upon  the  officiating  gentleman  informed  me  that  I  should  'i'u 
it  at  the  office  of  a  young  I  ",wyer  whom  he  named.  I  called 
upon  the  legal  gentleman,  and  found  him,  like  all  the  in'elli- 
gent  people  of  the  country,  very  polite  and  well  informed.  In 
speaking  of  the  surrounding  pictorial  associations  he  alluded  to 
a  certain  waterfall,  and  added  that  the  gentleman  who  referred 
me  to  him  owned  a  plantation  near  the  falls,  on  a  famous  trout 
stream,  and  was  an  angler.  On  this  hint  I  sent  a  couple  of 
handsome  flies,  as  a  present,  to  my  post-office  friend,  and  in 
less  than  twenty  minutes  thereafter  he  made  his  appearance 
at  my  lodgings,  and  insisted  that  wo  should  go  upon  a  fishing 
excursion,  and  that  the  lawyer  should  accompany  us.  Horses 
were  immediately  procured,  and  having  rode  a  distance  of  ten 
miles  along  a  very  beautiful  stream  called  Kul-la-aa-jah,  or  the 
Sugar  Watery  wo  came  to  the  chasm  leading  to  the  falls.  Here 
we  tied  our  horses,  and  while  my  companions  commenced  throw- 
ing the  fly,  I  proceeded  to  the  more  profitable  employment  of 
taking  sketches. 

The  chasm  of  the  Sugar  Water  Falls  is  about  half  a  mile 
long,  and  immediately  below  the  precipices  are  perpendicular 
and  very  imposing,  reaching  an  elevation  of  «t  least  one  thou- 
sand feet.     The  falls  themselves  are  three  in  number — the  first 


THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


393 


and  principal  one  being  about  sixty  feet  high.  Emptying  into 
the  Sweet  Water,  directly  at  the  lower  end  of  the  chasm,  is  a 
tiny  brook  without  a  name,  upon  which  I  found  a  cascade  of 
great  beauty.  The  water  falls  near  forty  feet,  but  sings  its 
eternal  song  in  a  shadoTry  recess,  where  hoary  trees,  mossy 
rocks,  and  exquisite  vines,  of  every  variety  peculiar  to  the 
country,  remain  in  their  original  wildncss.  As  I  clambered  up 
the  ravine  leading  to  this  cascade,  I  startled  a  doe  from  the 
green  couch  wh'jre  she  had  been  spending  the  noontide  hours. 
I  added  a  number  of  sketches  to  my  portfolio,  and  after  spend- 
ing "  alone  in  my  glory"  the  Nvliole  afternoon,  wandering  from 
one  chasm  to  another,  I  left  the  delightful  valley  with  reluc- 
tance, musing  upou  the  marvellous  beauty  of  everything  in  the 
world  formed  by  the  hand  of  God. 

On  arriving  at  the  spot  where  our  horses  were  tied,  I  found 
my  companions  both  ^earing  uncommonly  long  faces,  for  they 
had  not  sucteetled  in  killing  a  single  trout.  1  joked  my  post- 
oflSco  friend  about  his  "famous  trout  stream,"  and  then,  re- 
mounting our  horses,  we  paid  a  visit  to  his  plantation,  where  we 
enjoyed  a  comfortable  supper,  and.  continued  on  our  way  home 
by  the  light  of  the  mooii.  Under  any  circumstances  this  would 
have  been  an  agreeable  ride,,  but  on  the  present  occasion  my 
companions  did  all  the  talking,  and  the  substance  of  two  of 
their  stories  I  herewith  subjoin  merely  as  specimens : 

"  I  can't  account  for  our  bad  luck  in  catching  trout  to-day," 
said  my  post-office  friend ;  "  but  I  do  assure  you  that  a  fcouplc 
of  young  men  named  Hyatt,  and  myself,  once  went  a  fishing 
in  the  Sweet  Water,  and  we  took  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
trout.  But  this  is  not  to  the  purpose.  On  that  occasion  we 
fished  up  the  stream  ;  and  when  we  came  to  the  mouth  of  the 
chasm,  we  saw  a  big  buck,  which  wo  frightened  towards  the 
falls  as  wo  ascended.  When  wo  came  near  the  falls,  one  of  the 
Hyatts  and  myself  stopped  fishing,  and  went  to  work  to  corner 
the  buck,  and  see  if  we  covdd  kill  him  with  stones,  or  cause 
him  to  drown  himsdf.  There  was  no  way  for  him  to  make  his 
escape,  except  by  running  directly  over  us,  and  this  we  did  not 
suppose  he  would  dare  attempt.    He  made  many  desperate 


'>^4m  y- 


S^ 


|jS>?s; 


/''''''\^"*"^t 


u 


i^J 


i  -r 


m 


394 


THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


efforts  to  get  away,  and  at  one  time  managed  to  climb  an  almost 
perpendicular  wall  of  rock  to  the  height  of  some  twenty  feet, 
when  he  lost  his  foothold  and  fell  into  the  pool  below.  He  now 
became  very  much  enraged,  but  we  continued  to  pelt  him  with 
stones,  though  without  effecting  any  serious  injury.  After  bo- 
thering him  for  at  least  half  an  hour,  the  creature  finally  got 
upon  the  rocks  at  the  lower  part  of  the  pool,  when  he  swept  by 
us  with  great  fury,  and  started  down  the  chasm,  making  somo 
of  tha  most  fearful  leaps  that  I  ever  saw.  And  now  it  so  hap- 
jioned  that  we  saw  the  younger  Hyatt  standing  upon  a  rock 
nnd  casting  his  fly  upon  a  pool,  where  we  thought  the  deer 
must  pass  in  his  downwsird  course,  andwe  immediately  shouted 
to  the  angler  to  '  look  out.'  He  did  so,  and  immediately  drew 
out  a  hunting-knife  which  he  had  in  bis  pocket,  and  as  the  deer 
tumbled  into  the  pool,  young  Hyatt  actually  Jumped  upon  his 
back,  and  succeeded  in  giving  him  a  fatal  stab,  so  that  the  ani- 
mal merely  crawled  upon  the  rocks  to  die.  It  was  late  in  the 
evening  before  we  started  for  home,  and  Ave  only  brought  the 
skin  along  with  us;  but  as  we  left  the  chasm,  we  saw  a  large 
panther  descending  one  of  the  cliffs  of  the  gorge,  as  if  hasten- 
ing to  have  a  feast  upon  the  dead  deer." 

The  "story'*  of  my  lawyer  friend,  or  rather  a  fragment  of 
his  entertaining  conversation  was  as  follows :  "  As  it  is  im- 
portant, Mr.  LaT>man,  that  you  should  not  leave  our  country 
without  learning  something  of  our  great  personages,  and  as  our 
companion  here  is  a  modest  man,  I  will  };ive  you  a  brief  blctch 
of  his  character.  He  is  a  gen  leman  of  some  property,  for  he 
not  only  owns  the  plantation  where  we  took  supper,  but  one  or 
two  others  of  equal  value.  He  is  one  of  the  oldest  residents 
in  this  mountain  region — a  gentleman  of  fine  moral  character, 
and  with  a  heart  as  guileless  as  that  of  a  child.  He  is  a  pas- 
sionate lover  of  scenery,  and  has  probably  explored  the  beau- 
ties of  this  mountain  land  more  thoroughly  than  any  other  man 
now  living ;  he  is  also  a  great  lover  of  botany,  geology,  insect- 
ology, and  a  dozen  other  ologies,  and  I  believe  has  made  a 
number  of  discoveries  in  all  his  favorite  studies.  As  you  have 
heard,  he  tells  a  capital  story,  and,  as  you  may  see  by  looking 


IHK  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


395 


into  some  of  our  southern  newspapers,  lie  uses  the  pen  with 
ease  and  a  degree  of  elegance.  He  cherishes  a  love  for  the 
'  angle  art,'  and  I  must  say  usually  succeeds  in  his  fishing  ex- 
ploits much  better  than  he  has  to-day.  By  profession  he  is  a 
knight  of  the  needle ;  but,  being  somewhat  advanced  in  years, 
ho  amuses  himself  by  fulfilling  the  duties  of  deputy  postmaster 
in  the  village  of  Franklin." 

The  lawyer  was  here  interrupted  by  the  hero  of  his  story, 
who  insisted  upon  his  changing  the  "  subject  theme,"  and  the 
consequence  is,  my  readers  will  be  disappointed  in  obtaining 
any  more  information  respecting  the  scientific  deputy  postmas- 
ter of  the  Alleghany  mountains. 

But,  leaving  the  intellectual  out  of  view,  the  most  interest- 
ing character  whom  I  have  seen  about  Franklin  is  an  old  Che- 
rokee Indian.  His  name  is  Sa-taiv-ha,  or  Hog-Bite,  and  he  is 
upwards  of  one  hundred  years  of  age.  He  lives  in  a  small  log 
hut  among  the  mountains,  the  door  of  which  is  so  very  low  that 
you  have  lo  crawl  into  it  upon  your  hands  and  knees.  At  the 
time  the  grpa,ter  part  of  his  nation  were  removed  to  the  Far 
West,  the  "  oflScers  of  justice"  called  to  obtain  his  company. 
He  saw  them  as  they  approached,  and,  taking  his  loaded  rifle  in 
hand,  he  warned  them  not  to  attempt  to  lay  their  hands  upon 
him,  for  ho  would  certainly  kill  them.  He  was  found  to  be  so 
resolute  and  so  very  old,  that  it  was  finally  concluded  by  those 
in  power  that  the  old  man  should  be  left  alone.  He  lives  the 
life  of  a  hermit,  and  is  chiefly  supported  by  the  charity  of  one 
or  two  Indian  neighbors,  though  it  is  said  he  even  now  occa- 
sionally manages  to  kill  a  deer  or  turkey.  His  history  is  en- 
tirely unknown,  and  ho  says  he  can  remember  the  time  when 
the  Cherokee  nation  lived  upon  the  shores  of  a  great  ocean, 
(the  Atlantic,)  and  the  color  of  a  white  man's  face  was  un- 
known. 

In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  this  place  may  bo  seen  another 
of  those  mysterious  Indian  mounc^s  which  Ave  find  beautifying 
nearly  all  the  valleys  of  this  land.  And  here  it  may  not  be 
out  of  place  for  mo  to  introduce  the  opinions  concorrtlng  their 
origin  which  prevail  among  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  South. 


f.^p' 

■'^1 

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^ 

'i       ( 

1:  '  *      ' 

^41 

i    '  :'■  ■  •  ■ 

■4 

%:^: 

•*'^i^;. 

m 

iUl 

C2W*;. 


896 


THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


„   '^  ■'pi 


By  some  they  are  p*.id  to  have  been  built  by  a  race  of  people 
who  have  become  extinct,  and  were  formerly  used  by  the  Ohe- 
rokeea  merely  as  convenient  places  to  have  their  dances  and 
their  games.  A  superstition  also  prevails,  that  in  the  ancient 
days  every  Indian  brought  to  a  certain  place  a  small  bark  full 
of  the  soil  which  he  cultivated,  as  a  tribute  to  the  Great  Spirit, 
who  in  return  sent  them  a  plenteous  harvest.  Some  allege  that 
they  were  the  burial  places  of  great  warriors  and  hunters ;  some 
that  they  were  erected  as  trophies  of  remarkable  victories ; 
others  that  they  were  built  as  fortresses ;  and  others  still  that 
upon  them  were  performed  the  more  sacred  of  religious  rites. 
There  is  also  a  tradition  existing  among  the  Cherokees  that 
these  mounds  formerly  contained  a  species  of  sacred  fire ;  and 
it  is  well  known  that  an  Indian  has  never  been  known  to  de- 
face one  of  them,  and  to  see  them  defaced  by  the  white  man 
always  seems  to  make  them  unhappy.  The  only  light  (in  the 
way  of  opinion)  that  I  can  throw  upon  these  mounds  is,  that 
they  owe  their  origin  to  some  aboriginal  custotn  similar  to  that 
Wuich  has  brought  together  the  huge  piles  of  stones  which  the 
traveller  meets  with  in  various  portions  of  the  southern  coun- 
try. But  all  this  information  is  traditionary,  the  builders  of 
these  mounds  are  unknown,  and  all  that  even  the  wise  of  the 
present  generation  can  do  is  to  look  upon  them  in  silence  and 
wonder. 

The  gentleman  upon  whose  property  the  above  mentioned 
mound  is  situated  is  the  nabob  of  the  place,  an  intelligent  man, 
and  an  old  resident.  I  am  now  his  guest,  and  he  lives  in  com- 
fortable style,  his  dwelling  being  surrounded  with  a  score  or 
two  of  out-houses.  lie  carries  on  an  extensive  farming  busi- 
ness, and  is  the  owner  of  a  goodly  number  of  tidy,  respectful, 
and  industrious  slaves.  Though  situated  almost  within  rifle- 
shot of  an  impassable  mountain,  his  residence  is  associated  with 
clover-fields,  a  well-managed  garden  filled  with  flowers  and  vines, 
ancient  trees  where  sing  the  -katydids  in  the  evening  hours,  and 
above  which  swoop  the  joyous  and  n'^isy  martin  and  the  beauti- 
ful dove  ;  and  also  with  meadow-fields,  where  horses  and  cattle 
graze'  during  the  long  summer  day.    But  there  is  one  associa- 


THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


397 


tion  connected  with  this  farm-house  which  is  still  ringing  in  my 
ears :  I  allude  to  a  perpetual  chorus  of  an  everlasting  quantity 
of  jackasses,  peacocks,  and  guinea-hens.  My  host  seems  to 
have  a  passion  for  these  apparently  accidental  or  unfinished 
specimens  o£  natural  history ;  and  I  must  say  that  I  have  nevei 
before  been  privileged  to  enjoy  such  unearthly  music  as  I  have 
on  his  plantation.  The  painful  braying  of  a  jackass  awakens 
his  household  from  their  slumbers,  and  the  same  braying,  ac- 
companied by  the  screams  of  the  peacock  and  guinea-hen,  con- 
tinues without  ceasing  until  the  twilight  hour,  when  the  whip- 
pf^orwill  takes  up  her  evening  lay,  and  the  world  lapses  into  its 
nightly  repose. 

Having  spent  a  Sabbath  in  Franklin,  I  obtained  a  little  in- 
formation with  regard  to  the  religious  condition  of  th'e  people 
in  this  section  of  country.  The  only  denominations  who  have 
preaching  here  are  the  Methodists  and  Baptists.  Amonr;  the 
latter"  class,  the  Bible  custom  o{  tvashing  feet  is  still  kci't  up 
wi^Ii  rigor.  The  preachers  of  both  denominations  are  itinerants, 
and,  so  fer  as  I  have  seen,  are  worthy,  upright  and  sensible 
men.  They  seem  to  think  move  of  preaching  the  doctrines  of 
Christ  than  proclaiming  their  own  learning  or  advocating  their 
own  opinions,  and  it  is  therefore  always  a  pleasure  to  hear  them ; 
they  know  their  duties,  and  faithfully  fulfil  them,  and  I  believe 
accomplish  much  good.  The  people  attend  the  Sunday  meet- 
ings from  a  distance  of  ten  and  fifteen  miles ;  and,  as  the  men 
and  women  ride  on  horseback,  and  as  they  often  come  in  par- 
ties, their  appearance  on  approaching  the  church  is  often  ex- 
ceedingly picturesque. 

On  the  •  day  of  my  arrival  in  this  village,  a  negro  teamster 
met  with  an  accident  while  passing  over  a  neighboring  moun- 
tain, which  resulted  in  his  losing  one  of  his  four  horses,  which 
happened  to  step  over  a  log,  and,  on  being  cut  loose,  fell  clown 
a  precipice  of  forty  feet  in'o  a  pool  of  water.  On  being  ques- 
tioned as  to  the  mannev  in  which  the  animal  fell,  the  negro 
briefly  but  tcU'mgly  replied,  "  Ka  xvallup,  Jca  wallup,  ha  tvallup^ 
ha  swash  !"  I  thought  this  a  forcible  description,  and  could 
not  but  admire  the  man's  ingenuity  in  representing  each  somer- 
set by  a  single  word. 


hi     '-    ■:. 


**         * 


'-.iv.m 


^j.'^vj  \ 


898 


THE  LITTLE  TENNESSEE. 


Within  a  few  days  past  I  have  become  acquainted  with  two 
insects  which  I  have  never  seen  described,  but  which  are  found 
in  abundance  throughout  the  South.  I  allude  to  the  dirt-dauber 
and  the  stump-stinger.  In  their  general  appearance  they  both 
resemble  the  wasp.  The  first  lives  in  a  cell,  which  it  builds  on 
the  inner  side  of  a  shed  or  piazza.  It  is  a  noted  enemy  of  the 
spider,  and  possesses  the  art  and  the  habit  of  killing  that  in- 
sect in  great  numbers.  But  what  is  really  remarkable,  they 
have  a  fashion  of  stowing  away  the  carcasses  of  their  slaught- 
ered enemies  in  their  dwellings,  as  if  for  future  use ;  and  after 
the  cell  is  full,  they  close  it  with  mud,  and  proceed  to  build 
another  cell,  so  that  the  opulence  of  one  of  them  may  be  cal- 
culated by  the  number  of  his  closed  dwellings.  The  stump- 
stinger  is'  remarkable  for  having  attached  to  the  middle  of  his 
body  a  hard  and  pointed  weapon,  with  which  he  can  dig  a  hole 
one  inch  in  depth  in  the  body  of  even  a  hickory  tree.  This 
weapon  he  usually  carries  under  his  tail,  but  when  about  to  be 
used  makes  him  resemble  a  gimlet  in  form.  The  instrument  is 
very  hard,  and  composed  of  two  pieces,  which  he  works  up  and 
down,  like  a  pair  of  chisels.  It  is  supposed  that  he  makes  this 
hole  for  the  purpose  of  depositing  an  egg,  and  it  is  alleged  that 
the  tree  upon  which  he  once  fastens  himself  always  falls  to 
decay. 

But  this  allusion  to  insects  reminds  me  of  an  incident 
connected  with  the  ant  which  I  lately  noticed  in  one  of  my 
mountain  rambles.  While  watching  an  ant-hill,  I  discovered 
that  the  little  creatures  were  busily  engaged  in  enlarging  the 
hole  of  their  miniature  cavern ;  and  my  eyes  chanced  to  fall 
upon  another  detachment  of  the  same  insect,  who  were  ap- 
proaching the  hole  in  question  with  the  dead  body  of  a  grass- 
hopper. The  moment  this  party  was  discovered  by  those  at 
the  hole,  they  all  fell  to  Avork  and  tumbled  their  dead  booty 
along  at  a  more  rapid  rate  than  before.  On  reaching  the  hole 
an  attempt  was  made  to  drag  the  grasshopper  into  it,  but  without 
success,  for  it  was  too  small.  A  movement  to  enlarge  it  was 
then  immediately  made,  and  in  a  very  few  moments  the  slain 
creature  was  out  of  my  sight,  and  I  could  almost  fancy  that  I 


THE  LITTLB  TENNESSEE. 


399 


saw  the  ants  clapping  their  tiny  hands,  and  congratulating 
themselves  upon  the  feat  they  had  accomplished.  Upon  the 
whole  it  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  little  incidents  that  I 
ever  witnessed,  and  I  left  the  spot  feeling  that  I  understood  the 
words  of  Scripture  which  say,  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard, 
and  be  wise!" 

And  now,  as  the  desultory  character  of  this  letter  will  prob- 
ably ful'.y  satisfy  my  readers,  I  will  bring  it  to  a  close,  promising 
to  b*^  somewhat  more  circumspect  in  the  future. 


w 

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SMOKY    MOUNTAIN. 


» 


In  coming  from  Franklin  to  this  jilace,  Qualla  Town,  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  miles,  I  travelled  over  a  wild,  mountainous, 
and  thinly  settled  country,  whei:e  I  was  pained  to  witness  the 
evil  cfiFects  of  intemperance,  and  made  happy  by  following  the 
windings  of  a  beautiful  river.  Having  been  overtaken  by  a 
thunder-storm,  I  found  shelter  in  a  rude  and  comfortless  cabin, 
which  was  occupied  by  a  man  and  his  wife  and  eight  children. 
Every  member  of  the  family  was  barefooted,  and  the  children 
almost  destitute  of  clothing ;  not  one  of  them,  though  several 
were  full-grown  girls,  could  read  a  single  word ;  the  mother  was 
sickly  and  haggard  in  her  appearance,  and  one  of  the  little  boys 
told  me  that  he  had  not  eaten  a  hearty  meal  for  ten  days.  I 
subsequently  learned  that  the  head  of  this  household  was  a 
miserable  drunkard. 

The  river  to  which  I  alluded  is  the  Tuck-a-scego,  which 
empties  into  the  Tennessee.  It  is  a  very  rapid  stream,  and 
•washes  the  base  of  many  mountains,  which  are  as  wild  as  they 
were  a  century  ago.  Whenever  there  occurs  any  interval  land, 
the  soil  is  very  rich,  and  such  spots  are  usually  occupied.  The 
mountains  are  all  covered  with  forest,  where  wild  game  is  found 
in  abundance.  The  fact  is,  the  people  of  this  whole  region 
devote  more  of  their  time  to  hunting  than  they  do  to  agricul- 
ture, which  accounts  for  their  proverbial  poverty.  You  can 
hardly  pass  a  single  cabin  without  being  howled  at  by  half  a 
dozen  hounds,  and  I  have  now  become  so  well  educated  in 
guessing  the  wealth  of  a  mountaineer,  that  I  can  fix  his  con- 
dition by  ascertaining  the  number  of  his  dogs.    A  rich  man 


SMOKY  MOUNTAIN. 


401 


seldom  has  more  than  one  dog,  while  a  very  poor  man  will  keep 
from  ten  to  a  dozen.  And  this  remark  with  regard  to  dogs, 
strange  as  it  may*  seem,  is  equally  Jipplicable  to  the  children  of 
the  mountaineers.  The  poorest  man  without  any  exception, 
whom  I  have  seen  in  this  region,  lives  in  a  log  cabin  with  two 
rooms,  and  is  the  father  of  nineteen  cJiildren,  and  the  keeper  of 
six  hounds. 

On  my  arrival  in  this  place  which  is  the  home  of  a  large 
number  of  Cherokee  Indians,  (of  whom  I  shall  have  much  to 
say  in  future  letters,)  I  became  the  guest  of  Mr.  William  H. 
Thomas,  who  is  the  "guide,  counsellor,  and  friend"  of  the 
Indians,  as  well  as  their  business  agent.  While  conversing 
with  this  gentleman,  he  excited  my  curiositjr  with  regard  to  a 
certain  mountain  in  ais  vicinity,  and,  having  settled  in  his  own 
mind  that  I  should  spend  a  week  or  two  with  him  and  his 
Indians,  proposed  (first  excusing  himself  on  account  of  a  busi- 
ness engagement)  that  I  should  visit  the  mountain  in  company 
with  a  gentlemen  in  his  employ  as  surveyor.  The  proposed 
arrangemeiW^  was  carried  out,  and  thus  it  was  that  I  visited 
Smoky  Mountain. 

This  mountain  is  the  loftiest  of  a  large  brotherhood  which 
lie -crowded  together  upon  the  dividing  line  between  North 
Carolina  and  Tennessee.  Its  height  cannot  be  less  than  five 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  th"  sea,  for  the  road  leading 
from  its  base  to  its  summit  is  seven  and  a  half  miles  long.  The 
general  character  of  the  mountain  is  similar  to  that  already 
given  of  other  Southern  mountains,  and  all  that  I  can  say  of 
its  panorama  is,  that  I  can  conceive  of  nothing  more  grand  and 
imposing.  It  gives  birth  to  a  pair  of  glorious  streams,  the 
Pigeon  river  of  Tennessee,  and  the  Ocono-lufti/  of  North  Caro- 
lina, and  derives  its  name  from  the  circumstance  that  its  summit 
is  always  enveloped,  on  account  of  its  height,  in  a  blue  or  smoky 
atmosphere. 

But  the  chief  attraction  of  smoky  mountain  is  a  singular  cliff 

known  throughout  this  region  as  the  Alum  Cave.     In  reaching 

this  spot,  which  is  on  the  Tennessee  side,  you  have  to  leave 

your  horses  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and  perform  a  pedes- 

26 


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,„i;£<<ll 


> 


M- 


H 

1 

si 

402 


SMOKY  MOUNTAIN. 


trian  pilgrimage  of  about  six  miles  up  and  down,  very  far  up 
and  ever  so  far  down,  and  over  everything  in  the  way  of  rocks 
and  ruined  vegetation  which  Nature  could  possibly  devise,  until 
you  come  to  a  mountain  side,  which  is  only  two  miles  from  your 
starting  place  at  the  peak.  Bearing  along  at  the  base  of  this 
mountain  side  is  a  small  stream,  from  the  margin  of  which  you 
have  to  climb  a  precipice,  in  a  zigzag  way,  which  is  at  least  two 
thousand  feet  high,  when  you  find  yourself  on  a  level  spot  of 
pulverized  stone,  with  a  rocky  roof  extending  over  your  head 
a  distance  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  The  length  of  this  hollow  in 
the  mountain,  or  "cave,"  as  it  is  called,  is  near  four  hundred 
feet,  and  from  the  brow  of  the  beetling  precipice  to  the  level 
below,  the  distance*  is  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The 
top  of  the  cliflF  is  covered  with  a  variety  of  rare  and  curious 
plants,  and  directly  over  its  centre  trickles  a  little  stream  of 
water,  which  forms  a  tiny  pool,  like  a  fountain  in  front  of  a 
spacious  piazza.  The  principal  ingredients  of  the  rock  com- 
posing this  whitish  cliflf  are  alum,  epsom  salts,  saltpetre, 
magnesia,  and  copperas,  and  the  water  which  oozes  therefrom  is 
distinguished  for  its  strong  medicinal  qualities.  This  strange 
and  almost  inaccessible,  but  unquestionably  very  valuable  cave, 
belongs  to  a  company  of  neighboring  Carolinians,  who  have 
already  made  some  money  out  of  the  alum-,  but  have  not  yet 
accomplished  much  in  the  way  of  purifying  and  exporting  the 
various  products  in  which  it  abounds. 

The  scenery  upon  which.this  cave  15oks  down,  however,  in- 
terested me  quite  a^  much  as  the  cave  itself.  From  the  most 
comprehensive  point  of  view  two  mountains  descend  abruptly, 
into  a  kind  of  amphitheatre,  where  the  one  on  the  right  termi- 
nates in  a  very  narrow  and  ragged  ridge,  which  Is  without  a 
particle  of  vegetation,  while  far  beyond,  directly  in  front  of 
the  cave,  rises  a  lofty  and  pointed  mountain,  backed  by  some 
three  or  four  of  inferior  magnitude.  The  ridge  which  I  have 
mentioned  is  itself  very  high,  but  yet  the  cave  looks  down  upon 
it,  and  it  is  so  fantastic  in  its  appearance  that  from  different 
points  of  view  you  may  discover  holes  leading  like  windows  en- 
tirely through  it,  while  from  other  places  you  might  fancy  that 


SMOKY  MOUNTAIN. 


403 


you  looked  upon  a  ruined  castle,  a  decayed  battlement,  or  the 
shattered  tower  of  an  old  cathedral.  To  gaze  upon  this  pros- 
pect at  the  sunset  hour,  when  the  mountains  were  tinged  with 
a  rosy  hue,  and  the  immense  hollow  before  me  was  filled  with  a 
purple  atmosphere,  and  I  could  sec  the  rocky  ledge  basking  in 
the  sunlight  like  a  huge  monster  on  the  placid  bosom  of  a  lake, 
was  to  me  one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  impressive  ^enes 
that  I  ever  witnessed ;  and  then  remember,  too,  that  I  looked 
upon  this  wonderful  prospect  ■  rom  a  framework  of  solid  rock, 
composed  of  the  overhanging  cliff.  It  was>  a  glorious  picture, 
indeed,  and  would  amply  repay  one  for  a  long  pilgrimage. 

The  ordinary  time  required  i  •  visit  t'  3  Alum  Cave  ia  two 
days :  but,  owing  to  bad  weather,  my  friend  and  rself  occu- 
pied the  most  of  four  days  in  performing  the  -iC  0  trip.  To 
give  a  minute  account  of  all  that  we  me*:  ^*th  would  occup  ■  too 
much  time,  and  I  will  therefore  only  1  acur  I  in  this  place  the 
incidents  which  made  the  deepest  impression  on  my  own  mind. 

O.'r  first  night  from  home  we  spent  in  the  cabin  of  a  man 
who  treated  us  with  the  utmost  kindness,  and  would  not  receive 
a  penny  for  his  pains.  So  much  for  mountain  hospitality. 
And  now,  to  prove  that  our  friend  wat  an  intelligent  man,  it 
may  be  mentioned  that  he  is  an  adept  in  the  following  profes- 
sions and  trades,  viz.  those  of  medicine,  the  law,  the  blacksmith, 
the  carpenter,  the  hunter,  the  shoemaker,  the  watchmaker,  the 
farmer,  and  he  also  seemed  to  possess  an  inkling  of  some  half 
dozen  sciences.  Now,  16'^  not  exactly  mean  to  assert  that  the 
gentleman  is  a  master  pr,.  C'+'.-ner  in  all  these  departments  of 
human  learning  and  industry  ;  but  if  you  were  to  judge  of  his 
ability  by  his  use  of  technical  words,  you  would  not  for  a  mo- 
ment imagine  he  couLi  have  a  competitor.  But  so  it  is  in  this 
wild  region,  one  min  has  to  perform  the  intellectual  labor  of  a 
whole  district ;  and  what  is  really  a  hard  case,  the  knowledge 
which  is  thus  brought  to  so  good  a  market  is  nearly  always  the 
fruit  of  a  chance  education  and  not  a  systematic  one. 

Among  those  who  spent  the  night  with  us  under  the  roof  of 
the  above  accomplished  man,  was  one  of  the  idle  vagabonds  of 
the  country.    This  individual,  it  appears,  had  met  with  a  sin- 


1       :% 


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404 


SMOKY  MOUNTAIN. 


gular  accident  on  the  day  previous,  and  amused  us  by  relating 
it.  I  regret  that  I  cannot  remember  all  the  singular  epithets 
that  he  employed,  but  I  will  do  my  best  to  report  him  faithfully : 

*'  Now,  the  thing  happened  was  this,  and  I  reckon  you  never 
heard  sich  like  afore.  A  lot  of  us  fcUara  was  out  in  'Squire 
Jc-es*  millpond  a  washing  ourselves  and  swimming.  Now,  I 
allow  this  pond,  in  a  common  way,  is  nigh  on  to  half  a  mile 
long ;  but  at  this  time  they  were  draining  the  pond,  and  it 
warnt  so  very  large.  Wall,  there  was  one  spot,  well  nigh  the 
middle — no,  not  exactly ;  I  reckon  it  was  a  little  to  the  left — 
where  the  water  poured  out  into  a  real  catarock.  The  fcllars  I 
was  with  got  the  devil  in  'cm,  and  offered  to  bet  the  tabaccer 
that  I  couldn't  swim  near  the  big  hole  in  the  dam  without  going 
through.  I  agreed,  for  I  rflways  counted  myself  a  powerful 
swimmer.  .1  made  one  try,  and  just  touched  the  outside  of  the 
whirlpool.  The  fellars  laughed  at  me  and  said  I  couldn't  come 
it.  I  knew  they  said  what  was  not  so,  and  I  got  mad.  I 
tried  it  again,  and  went  a  bit  nearer,  when  they  yelled  out 
again  and  said  it  was  no  go.  By  this  time  I  was  considerable 
perplexed,  but  I  swore  to  myself  I  would  have  the  tobaccer, 
and  I  made  one  more  try.  But  this  time  I  got  into  the  whirl- 
pool, and  couldn't  get  out :  and,  in  less  than  no  time,  the  water 
wheeled  my  head  round  to  the  hole,  and  in  I  went,  quick  as  a 
streak,  I  went  through  the  hole,  'bout  four  or  six  feet  long 
— no,  I  allow  'twas  seven  feet — and  fell  into  the  surge  below. 
and  in  five  minutes  or  so — perhaps  six — I  was  on  dry  land, 
sound  as  a  button.  The  joke  was  on  the  fellars  then,  and  when 
I  told  'em  to  hand  over  ray  plunder,  they  said  they  would,  and 
told  mo  I  looked  like  a  big  frog  when  I  come  out  of  the  hole 
into  the  pool  below  tho  dam." 

On  the  following  morning  wo  travelled  to  the  foot  of  Smoky 
Mountain,  and  having  obtained  a  guide,  who  happened  to  be 
one  of  tho  proprietors  of  Alum  Cavo,  we  resumed  our  journey. 
In  tho  immediate  vicinity  of  the  cave  wo  came  across  an  Indian 
camp,  where  were  two  Indians  who  were  out  boar-hunting.  W« 
were  admitted  under  their  bark  roof,  and  with  them  spent  the 
night,  sleeping  upon  tho  ground.    Wo  remained  a  sufficient; 


SMOKY  MOUNTAIN. 


405 


length  of  time  to  enjoy  one  supper  and  one  breakfast ;  tlie  first 
was  composed  of  corn  bread  and  bear  meat,  and  the  second  of 
trout  (caught  in  a  neighboring  stream)  and  a  corn  cake  fried  in 
the  fat  of  a  bear. 

On  questioning  our  Indian  landlord,  as  we  sat  around  our 
watch  fire,  with  regard  to  the  Alum  Cave,  I  could  only  gather 
the  fact  that  it  was  originally  discovered  by  the  famous  chief 
Yo-na-gus-ka,  who  happened  in  his  youth  to  track  a  bear  to  one 
of  its  corners,  where  he  had  a  den.  Disappointed  on  this 
score,  I  then  turned  to  our  guide  to  see  what  ho  could  tell  me 
about  the  cave  that  was  not  connected  with  its  minerals,  and 
the  substance  of  his  narrative  was  as  follows : 

"  I  hav'n't  much  to  say  about  the  cave  that  I  knows  of  ex- 
cepting one  or  two  little  circumstjfnces  about  myself  and  another 
man.  The  first  time  I  come  here  it  was  with  my  brother  and 
two  Indians.  The  sight  of  this  strange  gash  in  the  mountain 
and  the  beautiful  scenery  all  around  made  me  very  excited,  and 
I  Avas  for  climbing  on  top,  and  no  mistake.  The  Indians  and 
my  brother  started  with  mo  up  the  ledge  at  the  north  end  of 
the  cave,  but  when  we  got  up  half  way,  just  opposite  to  an 
eagle's  nest,  where  the  creatures  were  screaming  at  a  fearful 
rate,  they  all  three  of  them  backed  down,  and  said  I  must  not 
keep  on.  I  told  *em  I  was  determined  to  see  the  top,  and  I 
would.  I  did  get  on  top,  and  after  looking  round  a  while  and 
laughing  at  the  fellows  below,  I  began  to  think  of  going  down 
again.  And  then  it  was  that  I  felt  a  good  deal  skcered.  I 
found  I  couldn't  get  down  the  way  I  got  up,  so  I  turned  about 
for  a  new  place.  It  was  near  sundown,  and  I  hadn't  yet  found 
a  place  that  suited  me,  and  I  was  afraid  I'd  have  to  sleep  out 
alone  and  without  any  fire.  And  the  only  way  I  ever  got  down 
was  to  find  a  pine  tree  that  stood  pretty  close  to  a  low  part  of 
the  ledge,  some  three  hundred  yards  from  the  cave,  when  I 
got  into  its  top,  and  so  came  down  among  my  friends,  who  said 
it  was  a  wonder  I  hadn't  been  killed. 

"  I  generally  have  had  to  pilot  all  strangers  to  the  cave  since 
that  time,  and  I  remember  one  circumstance  that  happened  to 
a  Tennessee  lawyer,  who  caused  us  a  good  deal  of  fun ;  for 


t§4n 


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'v\\  Ti! 


406 


SMOKY  MOtTNTAIN. 


there  was  a  party  of  young  gentlemen  there  at  the  time.  We 
had  a  camp  right  under  the  cave,  where  it's  always  dry,  and 
ahout  midnight  the  lawyer  I  mentioned  suddenly  jumped  up  as 
■we  were  all  asleep,  and  hegan  to  yell  in  the  most  awful  manner, 
as  if  something  dreadful  had  happened.  He  jumped  ahout  as 
if  in  the  greatest  agony,  and  called  on  God  to  have  mercy  on 
him,  for  he  knew  he  would  die.  0,  he  did  carry  on  at  a  most 
awful  rate,  and  we  thought  he  must  have  been  bitten  by  some 
snake,  or  was  crazy,  so  we  tore  off  his  clothes  to  see  what  was 
the  matter ;  and  what  do  you  suppose  we  found  ?  Nothing 
but  a  harmless  little  lizard,  that  bad  run  up  the  poor  man's 
legs,  all  the  way  up  to  his  arm-pits,  thinking,  I  suppose,  that 
his  clothes  was  the  bark  of  a  dead  tree.  After  the  trouble  was 
all  over,  the  way  we  laughed  at  the  fellow  was  curious." 

Our  second  day  at  the  Alum  Cave  (and  third  one  from  home) 
was  a  remarkably  cheerless  one ;  for  a  regular  snow-storm  set 
in,  mingled  with  hail,  and,  before  we  could  reach  our  horses 
and  descend  the  Smoky  Mountain,  some  three  or  four  inches 
of  snow  had  fallen.  We  spent  that  night  under  the  roof  of  our 
good  friend  and  worthy  man,  the  guide,  and  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty that  wo  could  induce  him  to  receive  a  bit  of  money  for  all 
his  trouble  in  piloting  us  and  treating  us  to  his  best  fare.  On 
that  night  we  ate  our  supper  at  nine  o'clock,  and  what  rendered 
it  somewhat  peculiar,  was  the  fact  that  his  two  eldest  daughters, 
and  very  pretty  girls  withal,  waited  upon  us  at  table,  holding 
above  our  heads  a  couple  of  torches  made  of  the  fat  pine.  That 
was  the  first  time  that  I  was  ever  waited  upon  in  so  rej^al  a 
style,  and  more  than  once  during  the  feast  did  I  long  to  retire 
in  a  corner  of  the  smoky  and  dingy  cabin  to  take  a  sketch  of 
the  romantic  scene.  At  sunrise  on  the  following  morning  my 
companion  and  myself  remounted  our  horses,  and  in  three  hours 
were  eating  our  breakfast  in  Qualla  Town. 


THE    CHEROKEE    INDIANS. 


Qualla  Town  is  a  name  applied  to  a  tract  of  seventy-two 
thousand  acres  of  land  in  Haywood  county,  which  is  occupied 
by  about  eight  hundred  Cherokee  Indians,  and  one  hundred 
Catawbas.  Their  district  is  mountainous  from  one  extremity 
to  the  other,  and  watered  by  a  number  of  beautiful  streams, 
which  abound  in  fish ;  the  valleys  and  slopes  are  quite  fertile, 
and  the  lower  mountains  aro  well  adapted  to  grazing,  and  at 
the  same  time  are  heavily  timbered  and  supplied  with  every 
variety  of  game.  This  portion  of  a  inuch  larger  multitude  of 
aborigines,  in  consideration  of  their  rank  and  age,  and  of  valu- 
able services  rendered  to  the  United  States,  were  permitted  by 
the  General  Government  to  remain  upon  their  native  soil,  while 
the  great  body  of  the  Cherokee  nation  were  driven  into  exile. 
They  (the  exiles)  amounted  in  all  to  more  than  Ixteen  thou- 
sand souls,  eighteen  hundred  and  ffty  having  died  on  their 
way  to  the  ^^ promised  land"  beyond  the  Mississippi.  And  here 
it  may  with  propriety  be  added,  tbat  since  the  removal,  those 
in  the  West  have  gradually  decreased  in  numbers,  while  the 
remaining  portion  have  steadily  increased  by  births  at  the  rate 
of  four  per  cent,  per  annum.  In  addition  to  the  Indians  above 
mentioned,  it  ought  to  bo  stated  that  there  is  a  remnant  of  two 
hundred  still  remaining  in  the  county  of  Cherokee ;  of  whom, 
however,  I  know  but  little,  and  therefore  purpose  to  confine  my 
remarks  to  those  of  Qualla  Town  alone. 

The  Indians  of  this  district,  having  formed  themselves  into  a 
regular  company,  with  appropriate  regulations,  they  elected  an 
old  friend  of  theirs,  named  William  H.  Thomas,  (mentioned 


*l'' 


*» 

* 


:i<i«a 


t|)«'HI' 


.  *1  ',;    - 


m 


i'^'^ibj. 


./'I 


v"s;."'t 


f-'H  iT?^ 


408 


THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS. 


■i\  ft 


in  my  last  letter,)  to  become  the'  business  chief,  so  that  the 
connection  now  existing  bv'itween  the  two  parties  is  that  of  father 
and  children.  What  the  r?sult  of  this  arrangement  has  been, 
will  be  fully  understood  wht-n  I  come  to  speak  of  the  advance 
which  the  Indians  have  made  in  the  march  of  civilization.  As 
they  are  organized  at  the  present  time,  the  Qualla  Town  people 
are  divided  into  seven  clans,  and  to  each  clan  is  assigned  what 
is  called  a  town,  over  each  of  which  presides  a  regular  chief. 
The  Cherokee  nation  was  originally  divided  into  seven  clans, 
which  were  probably  descended  from  certain  noted  families,  and 
the  old  party  feeling  is  still  preserved  with  jealous  care  among 
their  descendants  in  this  vicinity.  The  names  of  the  clans 
are :  In-e-chees-quah,  or  Bird  Clan ;  In-egil-lohee,  or  Pretty- 
faced  Clan ;  In-e-wortah,  or  Paint  Clan ;  In-c-wah-he-yah,  or 
Wolf  Clan ;  In-e-se-ho-nih,  or  Blue  Clan  ;  In-^-co-wih,  or  Deer 
Clan ;  and  In-e-eo-tc-ca-wih,  the  meaning  of  which  is  not 
known.  And  among  the  customs  which  prevail  am6ng  these 
clans,  is  onc^which  prevents  their  marrying  among  themselves, 
so  that  they  have  to  select  their  wives  from  a  neighboring  fra- 
ternity. Formerly  such  marriages  were  prohibited  by  penalty 
of  death. 

With  regard  to  the  extent  of  their  civilization  and  their  exist- 
ing manner  of  life,  the  following  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  com- 
prehensive summary :  About  three-fourths  of  the  entire  popu- 
lation can  read  in  their  own  language,  and,  though  the  majority 
of  them  understand  English,  a  very  few  can  speak  the  language. 
They  practice,  to  a  considerable  extent,  the  science  of  agricul- 
ture, and  have  acquired  such  a  knowledge  of  the  mechanic  arts 
as  answers  them  for  all  ordinary  purposes,  for  they  manufacture 
their  own  clothing,  their  own  ploughs,  ard  other  farming  uten- 
sils, their  own  axes,  and  even  their  own  guns.  Their  women 
are  no  lorger  treated  as  slaves,  but  as  equals  ;  the  men  labor 
in  the  fields,  and  their  wi»  9  are  devoted  entirely  to  household 
employments.  They  keep  the  eame  domestic  animals  that  are 
kept  by  their  white  neighbors,  and  cultivate  all  the  common 
grains  of  the  country.  They  are  probably  as  temperate  as  any 
other  class  of  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  honest  in  their 


THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS.  409 

business  intercourse,  moral  in  their  thoughts,  words  and  deeds, 
and  distinguished  for  their  faithfulness  in  performing  the  duties 
of  religion.  They  are  chiefly  Methodists  and  Baptists,  and 
have  regularly  ordained  ministers,  who  preach  to  them  on  every 
Sabbath,  and  they  have  also  abandoned  many  of  their  mere 
senseless  superstitions.  They  have  their  own  courts,  and  try 
their  criminals  by  a  regular  jury.  Their  judges  and  lawyers 
are  chosen  from  among  themselves.  They  keep  in  order  the 
public  roads  leading  through  their  settlement.  By  a  law  of  the 
State  they  have  the  right  to  vote,  but  seldom  exercise  that 
right,  as  they  do  not  like  the  idea  of  being  identified  with  any 
of  the  political  parties.  Excepting  on  festive  days,  they  dress 
after  the  manner  of  the  white  man,  but  far  more  picturesquely. 
They  live  in  small  log  houses  of  their  own  construction,  and 
have  every  thing  they  need  or  desire  in  the  way  of  food. 
They  are,  in  fact,  the  happiest  community  that  I  have  yet  met 
in  tliis  Southern  country,  ard  no  candid  man  can  visit  them 
without  being  convinced  of  '-he  wickedness  and  foolishness  of 
that  policy  of  the  Government,  which  has  always  acted  upon 
the  opinion  that  the  red  raan  could  not  be  educated  into  a  rea- 
sonable being. 

By  way  of  giving  niy  readers  a  correct  idea  of  the  present 
condition  of  the  Carolina  Chcrokees,  I  will  describe  a  visit  that 
I  paid  to  one  of  theiv  churches  on  the  Sabbath.  I  was  anxious 
to -see  how  far  thay  were  advanced  in  the  ways  of  Cliristian 
instruction,  and>  though  I  noticed  many  little  eccentricities,  I 
was,  upon  the  whole,  very  much  pleased  with  what  I  saw  and 
heard.  I  was  accompanied  by  Mr.  Thomas,  and  we  reached 
the  rude  but  spacious  log  meeting-house  about  eleven  o'clock. 
The  first  hour  was  devoted  to  instructing  the  children  from  a 
Cherokee  Catechism,  and  the  chiefs  of  the  several  clans  were 
the  ofiiciating  teachers.  At  twelve  o'clock  a  congregation  of 
some  one  hundred  and  fifty  souls  was  collected,  a  largo  propor- 
tion of  whom  were  women,  who  were  as  neatly  dressed  as  could 
be  desired,  with  tidy  calico  gowns,  and  fancy  handkerchiefs  tied 
over  their  heads.  The  deportment  of  all  present  Avas  as  cir- 
cumspect and  solemn  as  I  have  ever  witnessed  in  any  New 


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410  THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS. 

% 

England  religious  assembly.  '\^  hen  a  prayer  was  offered  they 
all  fell  upon  their  knees,  and  in  si/vging,  iill  but  the  concluding 
hymn,  they  retained  tlieir  ;  ;ats.  Their  i  »rm  of  worship  was 
according  to  the  Methodist  ov^totn,  hut  iu.  -heir  singing  there 
wa?  a  wild  and  plaintive  swcetnefti,  which  v^-sb  very  impressive. 
The  woraeu  and  children,  as  well  as  the  men,  participated  in 
this  porf ion  of  the  ceremony,  and  some  of  the  lemale  voices  re- 
minded iue  of  the  caroling  of  birds.  The/  sung  four  hymns; 
three  prayers  ■^'.  ore  oHared  by  several  individuals,  and  two  ser- 
mons or  exhortations  were  dolivored.  The  prayers  were  short 
and  pointed,  "ud,  aa  the  shorten v  night  be  considered  a  fair 
specimen  of  the  others,  I  will  transcribe  it  for  the  edification  of 
my  readers : 

"  Almighty  Lord,  who  art  the  father  of  the  world,  look  down 
from  heaven  on  this  congregation.  Bless  the  Indians,  and 
supply  them  with  all  the  food  and  clothing  they  *  may  want; 
bless,  also,  the  white  men,  and  give  them  every  thing  they  may 
.  need.  Aid  us  all,  0  Lord,  in  all  our  good  works.  Take  car  j 
of  us  through  life,  and  receive  us  in  heaven  when  the  world 
shall  be  burnt  up.  Wo  pray  thee  to  take  care  of  this  young 
white  man  who  has  come  to  this  Indian  meeting.  Protect  him 
in  all  his  travels,  and  «;o  with  him  to  his  distant  home,  for  we 
know  by  his  kind  words  that  he  is  a  friend  of  tho  poor,  igno- 
rant, and  persecuted  Indian.     Amen  !" 

The  first  preacher  who  addressed  tho  meeting  was  a  vener- 
able man.  Big  Charley,  and  ho  took  for  his  text  the  entire 
first  chapter  of  John ;  but,  before  proceeding  with  his  remarks, 
he  turned  to  Mr.  Thomas  and  wished  to  know  if  he  should 
preach  with  the  "  linguiater,"  or  interpreter,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  young  stranger.  I  told  him  no ;.  but  roquostod  Mr.  Thomas 
to  take  notes,  and,  through  his  kindness,  it  is  now  my  privi- 
lege to  print  the  substance  of  that  Cherokee  sermon.  It  was 
as  follows :    • 

"  In  the  beginning  of  creation,  the  world  was  covered  with 
water.  God  spake  the  word  and  the  dry  land  was  made.  He 
next  made  the  day  and  the  night ;  also,  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars.     He  then  made  all  the  beasts  and  birds  and  fishes  in  the 


THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS. 


411 


world,  and  was  much  pleased.  He  wanted  some  one  to  take 
care  of  all  these  creatures,  and  so  he  made  man,  and  from  his 
body  a  woman,  to  help  him  and  be  his  companion.  He  put 
them  into  a  beautiful  garden,  which  was  filled  with  all  kinds  of 
good  things  to  eat,  but  told  them  that  there  was  one  fruit  they 
must  no,  touch.  That  fruit  was  an  apple,  I  believe.  The 
woman  was  not  grateful  to  God,  and  when  a  wicked  serpent 
told  her  she  might  eat  of  the  beautiful  fruit  which  she  was  so 
curious  to  taste,  she  did  eat  of  it,  and  gave  some  to  the  man, 
and  he  took  some  too.  God  talked  with  the  man  about  his 
wicked  conduct,  and  told  him  that  he  and  his  children  should 
always  have  to  work  very  hard  for  all  they  had  to  eat,  so  long 
as  they  lived  in  the  world ;  and  to  the  woman,  God  said,  she 
must  always  suffer  very  much  when  she  had  children,  and  that 
the  man  should  bo  her  master.  The  man  and  woman  were  then 
turned  out  of  the  beautiful  garden,  and  they  were  the  father 
and  mother  of  all  the  Indians  in  the  world,  as  well  as  the  white 
men  and  the  black  men.  They  had  a  'great  many  children, 
and  the  world  was  very  full  of  people.  The  people  were  very 
wicked,  and  God  warned  a  good  man  that  he  intended  to  de- 
stroy the  world  by  covering  it  all  with  water,  and  that  this 
good  man  must  build  a  large  boat  like  a  house,  and  get  into  it 
with  his  family,  that  they  might  not  perish.  The  peopk 
laughed  at  this  good  man  for  believing  such  a  story ;  but  he 
took  into  his  house  two  kinds  of  all  the  animals  in  the  world, 
and  the  waters  came ;  so  the  world  was  destroyed.  After 
many  days  the  good  man  sent  out  a  dove  to  find  some  land, 
but  it  could  not  find  any  and  came  back.  He  sent  it  out  again, 
and  it  never  returned,  and  soon  the  great  house  rested  on  the 
top  of  a  high  mountain.  Another  race  of  people  then  covered 
the  earth  ;  and  a  groat  many  good  men  lived  upon  the  earth. 
One  of  the  greatest  of  them  it  was  who  received  from  God  the 
ten  commandmentSy  which  direct  all  men  how  to  be  good  and 
happy ;  but  the  world  was  yet  very  wicked.  Long  after  this, 
God  sent  into  the  world  his  only  Son,  whose  name  was  Jesus 
Christ.  This  wonderful  being  it  was  who  gave  up  his  own  life 
that  all  the  wicked  of  the  world  might  be  saved,  and  the  justice 


'41 


VIM  "tin 


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U  • 


412 


THE  CHEROKEE  INDIANS. 


of  God  be  satisfied  ;  and  so  it  is,  that  all  the  Indians,  as  vrell 
as  the  white  men,  who  live  like  Jesus  Christ,  can  get  to  heaven 
when  they  die." 

In  delivering  his  sermon,  the  preacher  occupied  about  thirty 
minutes ;  and  the  above  facts  were  cemented  togetl  ar  by  a 
great  number  of  flowery  expressions,  which  made  it  quite  poeti- 
cal. Ilis  manner  was  impressive,  but  not  particularly  eloquent. 
After  he  had  taken  his  seat,  and  a  hymn  had  been  sung,  a 
young  man  stepped  into  the  rude  pulpit,  who  has  distinguished 
himself  by  his  eloquence.  His  name  is  Tekin-neb,  or  the 
Garden  of  Eden.  He  spoke  from  the  same  text,  and  his  re- 
marks bore  chiefly  on  the  redemption  by  Christ.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  his  addrjss,  he  gave  a  sketch  of  his  own  religious 
experience,  and  concluded  by  a  remarkably  affecting  appeal  to 
his  hearers.  His  voice,  emphasis,  and  manner  were  those  of  a 
genuine  orator,  and  his  thoughts  were  poetical  to  an  uncommon 
degree.  In  dwelling  upon  the  marvellous  love  of  the  Saviour, 
and  the  great  wickedness  of  the  world,  he  was  affected  to  tears, 
and  when  he  concluded  there  was  hardly  a  dry  eye  in  the 
house. 

After  the  benediction  had  been  pronounced,  Mr.  Thomas 
delivered  a  short  address  to  the  meeting  on  Temperance  and  a 
jFew  secular  matters,  when  the  Indians  quietly  dispersed  to  their 
several  homes.  I  retired  to  my  own  temporary  home,  deeply 
impressed  by  what  I  tiad  seen  and  heard,  for  my  pride  had 
been  humbled  while  listening  to  the  rude  savage,  whose  reli- 
gious knowledge  was  evidently  superior  to  my  own. 


f 


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CHEROKEE   CUSTOMS. 


The  plan  adopted  for  the  civilization  of  the  Carolina  Chero- 
keea  differs  materially  from  any  others  adopted  in  the  United 
States.  Their  amusements  are  not  interfered  with,  excepting 
when  found  to  have  an  immoral  or  unhappy  tendency.  A 
goodly  number  of  their  more  ridiculous  games,  however,  they 
have  abandoned  of  their  own  accord,  but  the  manly  game  of 
hall-playing  is  still  practised  after  the  ancient  manner,  with 
one  or  two  restrictions.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  not  al- 
lowed to  wager  their  property  on  the  games,  as  of  old,  unless 
it  be  some  trifle  in  the  way  of  a  woollen  belt  or  cotton  hand- 
kerchief, and  they  are  prohibited  from  choking  each  other,  and 
breaking  their  heads  and  legs,  when  excited,  as  was  their  habit 
in  former  times.  Since  my  arrival  here,  the  Indians  have  had 
one  of  their  ball-games ;  and  as  it  was  gotten  up  especially  for 
my  edification,  J  made  it  a  point  of  etiquette  to  be  present  at 
the  preparatory  dance  and  the  game,  as  well  as  at  the  con- 
cluding ceremony,  and  these  I  will  now  endeavor  to  describe. 

The  preparatory  or  training  dance  took  place  on  the  night 
preceding  the  game,  and  none  participated  in  it  who  were  not 
to  play  on  the  following  day.  There  were  sixty  young  men 
present,  besides  the  spectators,  and  they  met  on  a  grassy  plot 
formed  by  a  bend  of  a  neighboring  stream,  called  Soco  Creek. 
The  danccra  were  stripped  of  every  particle  of  clothing  but 
their  waistbands  ;  they  made  their  own  music,  which  was  com- 
posed merely  of  a  rapid  succession  of  whoops  and  shouts  ;  and 
they  d'^nced  round  a  largo  blazing  fire.  The  night  in  question 
was  very  beautiful,  and  Avhen  this  strange  group  was  looked 
upon  by  the  light  of  the  full  moon,  and  the  wild  mountain 
scenery  on  every  side,  they  presented  a  most  romantic  appear- 


•  ►»■<•«,»'' 


'^l>-'i:' 


"      ■■;■      >'J 


If    -) 


•A- -'4 
Ml     1 


i 


!#"■ 


414 


CHEROKEE  CUSTOMS. 


ance  indee^.  They  kept  up  the  dance  for  over  an  hour,  and, 
when  it  was  concluded,  all  the  men  immediately  ran  towards  a 
deep  pool  in  the  ice-cold  ttream,  and  without  waiting  for  the 
perspiration  to  cool,  plunged  into  the  s  iter,  and,  having  finally 
emerged,  started  for  their  several  homes.  This  dance,  I  am 
informed,  had  its  origin  in  an  ancient  custom,  which  compelled 
all  the  candidates  for  a  game  of  ball  to  inure  themselves  to 
every  hardship  for  ten  days  before  the  game  took  place,  and 
during  all  that  time  they  were  to  eat  but  little  food,  and  were 
to  refrain  from  gratifying  any  of  their  sensual  appetites. 

On  the  morning  of  the  game,  a  large  plain,  lying  between 
two  hills  and  directly  in  front  of  the  Indian  Court-house  (a 
large  circular  lodge,  built  of  logs,)  was  divested  of  every  stone 
and  stick  on  its  surfiice,  and  at  ten  o'clock  the  spectators  began 
to  assemble.  These  were  composed  of  the  old  men  of  the  na- 
tion, a  large  number  of  boys,  and  a  still  larger  number  of  wo- 
men* and  children.  They  were  all  dressed  in  their  holiday 
attire,  so  that  feathers,  shawl  turBans,  scarlet  belts,  and  gaudy 
hunting  shirts  were  quite  abundant;  and,  scattered  as  they 
were  in  groups  of  from  five  to  fifty  on  the  hill  sides  and  under 
the  shadow  of  the  trees,  they  presented  a  most  picturesque  ap- 
pearance. During  all  this  time  the  players  had  kept  out  of 
sight,  and  it  was  understood  that  the  two  parties  were  among 
the  bushes,  at  the  two  ends  of  the  plain,  preparing  themselves 
for  the  game.  Under  the  direction  of  the  presiding  chief  or 
c^ame-director,  two  poles  were  now  erected  about  six  hundred 
yards  apart,  on  either  side  of  a  given  centre,  and  in  this  centre 
was  placed  the  ball.  From  this  point  was  the  ball  to  be  given 
to  the  players,  and  the  party  which  first  succeeded  in  throwing 
it  outside  of  the  pole  belonging  to  their  opponents  to  the  num- 
ber of  twelve  times  were  to  be  considered  the  winners. 

Everything  being  ready,  a  shrill  whoop  was  given  from  one 
end  of  the  plain,  and  immediately  answered  by  the  opposing 
party,  when  they  all  made  their  appearance,  marching  slowly 
to  the  centre,  shouting  and  yelling  as  they  passed  along.  Each 
party  consisted  of  thirty  splendidly  formed  young  men,  who 
were  unincumbered  by  any  clothing,  (save  their  common  waist- 
band,) and  every  individual  carried  in  his  hand  a  pair  of  ball 


CHEROKEE  CUSTOMS. 


415 


sticks,  made  with  a  braided  bag  at  one  end.  As  the  parties 
approached  the  centre,  the  lady-loves  of  the  players  ran  out 
upon  the  plain  and  gave  their  favorite  champions  a  variety  of 
articles,  such  as  belts  and  handkerchiefs,  which  they  were  will- 
ing to  wager  upor"  the  valor  of  their  future  husbands.  This 
little  movement  struck  mc  as  particularly  interesting,  and  I  was 
greatly  pleased  with  the  bashfulness  and  yet  complete  confidence 
with  which  the  Indian  maidens  manifested  their  preferences. 

When  the  several  parties  were  assembled  at  the  centre  of  the 
plain,  each  man  selected  his  particular  antagonist  by  placing 
his  sticks  at  his  rival's  feet,  after  wWch  the  game-director  de- 
livered a  long  speech,  wherein  he  warned  them  to  adhere  to  the 
existing  re<^ulation3 ;  and^  tlirowing  the  ball  high  up  in  the  air, 
made  his  escape  to  one  side  of  the  plain,  and  the  game  com- 
menced. As  it  proceeded,  the  players  became  greatly  excited, 
and  I  noticed  that  the  ball  was  never  taken  in  hand  until  after 
it  had  been  picked  up  by  the  spoony  stick,  but  the  expertness 
with  which  these  movements  were  performed  was  indeed  sur- 
prising. At  one  time  the  whole  crowd  of  players  would  rush 
together  in  the  most  desperate  and  fearful  manner,  presenting, 
as  they  struggled  for  the  ball,  the  appearance  of  a  dozen  gladi- 
ators, striving  to  overcome  a  monster  serpent ;  and  then  again, 
as  one  nun  would  secure  the  ball  and  start  for  the  boundary 
line  of  his  opponent,  the  races  which  ensued  were  very  beauti- 
ful and  exciting.  Wrestling  conflicts  also  occurred  quite  fre- 
quently, and  it  often  seemed  as  if  the  players  would  break 
every  bone  in  their  bodies  as  they  tlirew  each  other  into  the 
air,  or  dragged  each  other  over  tho  ground ;  and  many  of  the 
leaps,  which  single  individuals  performed,  were  really  superb. 
The  exercise  was  of  a  character  that  would  kill  the  majority  of 
white  men.  The  game  lasted  for  about  two  hours,  and  the  mo- 
ment it  was  finished,  the  entire  body  of  players,  while  yet 
panting  with  excessive  fatigue,  made  a  rush  for  the  neighbor- 
ing river,  and  in  a  short  time  appeared  on  the  plain  in  their 
usual  garb,  and  the  old  chief  who  had  held  the  stakes  awarded 
the  prizes  to  the  winning  party.  .  A  short  time  afterwards  the 
boys  stripped  themselves,  and  went  through  the  same  routine 
of  playing  as  already  described,  when  the  ball-playing  was  at 


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416 


CHEROKEE  CUSIOMS. 


an  end,  and  the  people  began  to  disperse  with  a  view  of  getting 
ready  for  the  evening  dance. 

I  employed  the  intervening  time  by  going  home  with  one  of 
the  chiefs,  and  eating  a  comfortable  supper  in  his  log  cabin. 
The  habitation  of  this  chief  was  made  of  hewn  logs,  and  occu- 
pied a  farm  of  twenty  acres  on  the  mountain  side,  about  one- 
fourth  of  which  was  in  a  state  of  cultivation,  and  planted  with 
corn  and  potatoes.  lie  had  a  tidy  wife  and  several  children, 
and  his  stock  consisted  of  a  pony,  a  cow,  and  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  sheep.  At  nine  o'clock,  I  was  again  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd  of  Indians,  assembled  at  the  court-house  of  the  town.  The 
edifice,  so  called,  is  built  of  hewn  logs,  very  largo  and  circular, 
without  any  floor  but  that  of  solid  earth,  and  without  any  seat  but 
one  short  bench  intended  for  the  great  men  of  the  nation.  In  the 
centre  of  this  lodge  was  a  large  fire,  and  the  number  of  persons 
who  figured  in  the  several  dances  of  the  evening,  was  perhaps 
two  hundred,  all  fantastically  dressed,  and  including  men,  wo- 
men, and  boys.  Each  dancer  made  his  own  music,  and,  with 
one  exception,  the  dances  were  of  the  common  Indian  sort. 
The  exception  allude.d  to  was  particularly  fantastic,  and  called 
"the  Pilgrim  Dance."  They  came  in  with  packs  on  their 
backs,  with  their  faces  strangely  painted,  and  with  gourds  hang- 
ing at  their  sides,  and  the  idea  seemed  to  be  to  represent  their 
hospitality  towards  all  strangers  who  visited  them  from  distant 
lands.  The  dancing  continued  until  midnight,  when  the  pre- 
siding chief  addressed  the  multitude  on  the  subject  of  their 
duties  as  intelligent  beings,  and  told  them  to  return  to  their 
several  homes  and  resume  their  labors  in  the  field  and  in  the 
shops.  lie  concluded  by  remarking  that  he  hoped  I  was 
pleased  with  what  I  had  witnessed,  and  trusted  that  nothing 
had  happened  which  would  make  the  wise  men  of  my  country 
in  the  East  think  less  of  the  poor  Indian  than  they  did  at  the 
present  time  :  and  he  then  added  that,  according  to  an  ancient 
custom,  as  I  was  a  stranger  they  liked,  the  several  chiefs  had 
given  me  a  name,  by  which  I  should  hereafter  be  remembered 
among  the  Carolina  Cheroke.es,  and  that  name  was  Ga-taw- 
hough  Nb-quc-sih,  or  The  Wandering  Star. 


■i    ■  ' 

T 


f 


CHEROKEE    CHARACTERS. 


In  the  present  letter  I  purpose  to  give  you  a  brief  historical 
account  of  certain  celebrated  Cherokee  Indians,  who  are  de- 
servedly considered  as  among  the  bright  particular  stars  of  their 
nation.  Some  of  them  are  dead,  and  some  still  living,  but 
they  were  all  born  in  this  mountain  land  and  it  is  meet  that  I 
should  award  to  each  a  "passing  paragraph  of  praise." 

The  first  individual  that  I  would  mention  is  Yo-na-gus-ka,  or 
the  Drowning  Bear.  He  was  the  principal  chief  of  the  Qualla 
Indians,  and  died  in  the  year  1838,  in  the  t  'enty-fifth  year  of 
his  age.  When  the  Cherokees  were  invited  to  remove  west  of 
the  Mississippi  in  1809,  he  petitioned  President  Jefferson  that 
he  might  be  permitted  to  remain  with  his  followers,  among  his 
native  mountains,  and  his  prayer  was  granted.  He  was  emi- 
nently a  peace  chief,  but  obstinately  declined  every  invitation 
of  the  Government  to  emigrate,  and  would  probably  have  shed 
his  blood  and  that  of  all  his  warriors  in  defending  his  rights. 
When  about  sixty  years  of  age  he  had  a  severe  fit  of  sickness, 
which  terminated  in  a  trance ;  this  apparent  suspension  of  all 
his  faculties  lasted  about  twenty-four  hours,  during  which  pe- 
riod he  was  supposed  to  be  dead.  It  so  happened,  however, 
that  he  recovered,  and  on  resuming  his  speech,  told  his  attend- 
ants that  he  had  been  to  the  spirit  land,  and  held  communion 
with  his  friends  who  had  been  long  dead ;  that  they  were  all 
very  happy.  He  also  stated  that  he  had  seen  many  white  men, 
and  that  some  of  them  appeared  to  be  unhappy.  The  Great 
Spirit  talked  with  him,  and  told  him  his  time  was  not  yet  come 
to  leave  the  world :  that  he  had  been  a  good  and  honest  man, 
27 


-'fe- 


II 


.1 


418 


CHEROKEE  CHASACTEKS. 


Wm^s^/' 


"|^ 


M 


and  that  he  must  return  to  his  people,  and  govern  them  with 
great  care  and  affection,  so  that  ho  might  finally  come  and  live 
Tifith  the  Great  Spirit  forever. 

Subsequently  to  that  time  his  people  gave  him  a  now  name, 
which  was  Yon-na-yous-ta,  or  How  like  an  Indian.  He  gov- 
erned his  people  like  a  father,  and  was  universally  beloved.  It 
was  at  his  suggestion  that  Mr.  Thomas  was  adopted  into  the 
Cherokee  nation ;  the  prominent  reasons  assigned  for  such  a 
desire  on  his  part  being  that  Thomas  had  proved  himself  to  be 
the  Indian's  friend,  and  was  alone  in  the  vorld,  having  no  fa- 
ther or  brother.  Mr.  Thomas  exerted  a  great  influence  over 
him,  and  among  the  measures  which  the  former  recommended 
was  the  adoption  of  a  temperance  society  for  the  improvement 
of  himself  and  people,  who  were  all  addicted  to  the  intoxicat- 
ing bowl.  Ho  was  a  true  patriot  at  heart,  and  on  being  rea- 
soned into  a  correct  state  of  mind,  he  expressed  his  determina- 
tion to  create  a  reform.  lie  first  reformed  himself,  and  then 
summoned  a  council  of  all  his  people,  ostensibly  but  secretly, 
for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  temperance  society.  At  this 
council  ho  made  a  speech  to  tho  effect  that  they  knew  ho  had 
been  an  intemperate  man,  and  had  discouraged  the  use  of  strong 
drink,  which  ho  was  confident  was  rapidly  annihilating  his  na- 
tion ;  he  expected  to  bo  with  his  people  but  a  short  time,  and 
to  extricate  them  from  the  great  evil  ho  had  mentioned  was  the 
rea'  ;urposo  of  tho  Great  Spirit  in  prolonging  his  life ;  ho  also 
spoke  of  tho  many  evils  to  families  md  individuals  resulting 
from  intemperance  ;  and  when  he  concluded,  it  is  said  that  bis 
entire  audience  was  in  tears.  Taking  advantage  of  this  triumph, 
he  called  his  Scribe,  (for  ho  himself  was  an  illiterate  man,)  and 
requested  him  to  writo  these  words  upon  a  sheet  of  paper : 
"Iho  undersigned  drink  no  more  whiskey;"  to  which  pledge 
ho  requested  that  his  name  should  be  attached.  Every  mem- 
ber of  the  council  appended  his  name  to  the  paper,  and  thuH 
was  established  the  first  temperance  society  among  tho  Chero- 
fcees,  which  has  already  accomplished  wonders.  Among  the 
regiilations  which  lie  afterwards  proclaimed,  was  one  that  each 
Indian  should  pay  a  fine  of  two  shillings  for  every  offcnco  com- 


CHEROKEE  CHARACTERS. 


419 


mitted  in  breaking  the  pledge,  and  that  the  money  thus  col- 
lected should  be  expended  in  extending  the  boundaries  of  their 
territory.  And  here  it  may  be  well  to  mention  the  fact,  that 
tlnough  this  "  father  of  temperance"  among  the  Indians  had 
been  extremely  dissipated  during  a  period  of  thirty  years,  he 
was  never  known,  even  in  the  loaxj  of  medicine,  to  touch  a  drop 
of  spirits  after  his  first  temperance  speech. 

The  reputation  of  Yo-na-gus-ka  as  an  orator  was  co-exten- 
sive with  his  entire  nation,     itx  not  only  understood  the  art  of 
working  upon  the  feelings  and  clothing  his  thoughts  in  the  most 
appropriate  imagery,  but  the  thoughts  themselves  were  invari- 
ably sound,  and  his  arguments  unanswerable.     From  many  ex- 
amples of  his  reasoning  I  select  one.     When  once  invited  by 
the  ofiicers  of  Government  to  remove  westward,  even  after  he 
and  his  people  had  become  citizenizcd,  ho  was  informed  that  in 
the  West  he  would  have  an  abundance  of  the  most  fertile  land, 
with  plenty  of  game ;  also  a  government  of  his  own ;  that  he 
would  bo  undisturbed  by  the  whites,  and  that  the  United  States 
Government  would  ever  protect  him  from  future  molestation. 
In  replying  to  this  invitation,  as  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  armed 
soldiers,  he  remarked  in  substance  as  follows :  "  I  am  an  old 
man,  and  have  counted  the  snows  of  almost  eighty  winters. 
My  hair,  which  is  now  very  white,  was  once  like  the  raven's 
wing.     I  can  remember  when  the  white  man  had  not  seen  the 
smoke  of  our  cabins  westward  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  I  have 
watched  the  establishment  of  all  his  settlements,  even  to  the 
Father  of  Waters.     The  march  of  the  white  is  still  towards 
the  setting  sun,  and  I  know  that  he  will  never  bo  satisfied  until 
ho  reaches  the  shore  of  the  great  water.     It  is  foolish  in  you 
to  tell  me  that  the  whites  will  not  trouble  the  poor  Cherokcvj  in 
the  Western  country.   Tho  white  man's  nature  and  the  Indian's 
fate  tell  a  diflferent  story.     Sooner  or  later  one  Government 
must  cover  tho  whole  continent,  and  tho  rod  people,  if  not  scat- 
tered among  tho  autumn  leaves,  will  become  a  part  of  the  Ame- 
rican nation.     A^  to  tho  white  man's  promises  of  protection, 
they  have  been  too  often  broken ;  they  are  like  the  reeds  in 
yonder  rivor — they  are  all  I'-es.    North  Carolina  had  acknow- 


i.-.;;f| 


1^ 


'--ii 


■    ills- 


11; 


"•[  M 


IP'IW-,^: 


"f,,r'!if- 


m.mi 


."■-■t: 


I 


k   ( 


■  ■■m 


if  - 


.!^  mL 


420  CHEROKEE  CHARACTERS. 

ledged  our  title  to  these  lands,  and  the  United  States  had  gua- 
rantied that  title ;  but  all  this  did  not  prevent  the  Government 
from  taking  away  our  lands  by  force ;  and,  not  only  that,  but 
sold  the  very  cow  of  the  poor  Indian  and  his  gun,  so  as  to  compel 
him  to  leave  the  country.  Is  this  what  the  white  man  calls 
justice  and  protection  ?  No,  we  will  not  go  to  the  West.  We 
wanted  to  become  the  children  of  North  Carolina,  and  she  has 
received  us  as  such,  and  passed  a  law  for  our  protection,  and 
we  will  continue  to  raise  our  cohi  in  this  very  land.  The  peo- 
ple of  Carolina  have  always  been  very  kind  to  us,  and  we  know 
they  will  never  oppress  us.  You  say  the  land  in  the  West  is 
much  better  than  it  is  here.  That  very  fact  is  an  argument  on 
our  side.  The  white  man  must  have  rich  land  to  do  his  great 
business,  but  the  Indian  can  be  happy  with  poorer  land.  The 
white  man  must  have  a  flat  country  for  his  ^Jough  to  run  easy, 
but  we  can  get  along  even  among  the  rocks  on  the  mountainb. 
We  never  shall  do  what  you  want  us  to  do.  I  don't  like  you 
for  your  pretended  kindness.  I  always  advise  my  people  to 
keep  their  backs  for  ever  turned  towards  the  setting  sun,  and 
never  to  leave  the  land  of  their  fathers.  I  tell  them  they  must 
live  like  good  citizens ;  never  forget  the  kindness  of  North  Ca- 
rolina, and^lways  be  ready  to  help  her  in  time  of  war.  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say." 

When  Yo-na-gus-ka  was  about  to  die,  he  summoned  his  chiefs 
and  warriors  to  his  bed-side,  and  talked  to  them  at  great  length 
upon  the  importance  of  temperance,  and  in  opposition  to  the 
idea  of  their  emigrating  to  the  West,  arid  made  them  swear  that 
they  would  never  abandon  the.  graves  of  their  fathers,  or  his 
own  grave,  which  is  now  marked  by  a  pile  of  stones  on  the 
margin  of  the  Soco.  In  personal  appearance  ho  was  very 
handsome,  and  left  two  wives.  He  was  the  owner  of  consi- 
derable property,  and  among  his  possessions  was  an  old  negro 
named  Cudjo.  This  man  is  now  living,  and  on  questioning 
him  about  his  former  master  he  replied  :  "If  Yo-na-gus-ka  luul 
had  larning,  I  b'lievo  he'd  been  u  very  great  mnn.  IIo  never 
allowed  himself  to  be  called  master,  for  he  said  Cudjo  was  his 
brother,  and  not  his  slave.     He  was  a  great  friend  o'  mine,  and 


CH£ROI||£  CHARACTERS.  421 

when  he  died,  I  felt  as  I  didn't  care  about  living  any  longer 
myself;  but  Yo-na-gus-ka  is  gone,  and  poor  old  Cudjo  is  still 
Riive  and  well." 

The  second  character  that  I  would  introduce  to  my  readers 
is  now  living  in  Qualla  Town.  His  name  is  Salola,  or  the 
Squirrel.  He  is  quite  a  young  man,  and  has  a  remarkably 
thoughtful  face.  He  is  the  blacksmith  of  his  nation,  and  with 
some  assistance  supplies  the  whole  of  Qualla  Town  with  axes 
and  ploughs  ;  but  what  is  more,  he  has  manufactured  a  num- 
ber of  very  superior  rifles  and  pistols,  including  stock,  barrel, 
and  lock  ;  and  he  is  also  the  builder  of  grist-mills  which  grind 
all  the  corn  that  his  people  eat.  A  specimen  of  his  workman- 
*"Lip,  in  the  way  of  a  rifle,  may  be  seen  at  the  Patent-Ofiice, 
in  Washington,  where  it  was  deposited  by  Mr.  Thomas ;  and  I 
believe  Salola  is  the  first  Indian  who  ever  manufactured  an 
entire  gun.  But,  Avhen  it  is  remembered  that  he  never  re- 
ceived a  particle  of  education  in  any  of  the  mechanic  arts,  but 
is  entirely  self-taught,  his  attainments  must  be  considered  truly 
remarkable. 

That  he  labors  under  every  disadvantage  in  his  most  worthy 
calling,  may  be  shown  by  '^:  ■;  fact  that  he  uses  &  flint-stone  for 
an  anvil,  and  a  water-blast  i'./  a  bellows.  In  every  particular 
he  is  a  most  worthy  man,  and  though  unable  to  speak  the  Eng- 
lish tongue,  is  a  very  good  scholar  in  his  own  language.  He 
is  the  husband  of  a  '^;<tawba  woman,  whom  he  married  before 
he  could  speak  one  ivord  of  her  oivn  tongue,  or  she  could  speak 
Cherokee  ;  but  they  have  now  established  a  language  of  their 
own,  by  which  they  get  along  very  well.  Salola,  upon  the 
whole,  is  an  honor  to  the  country,  and  one  whose  services  in 
some  iron  or  steel  establishment  of  the  eastern  cities  would  be 
of  great  value.  Is  there  not  some  gentleman  in  Philadelphia 
or  New  York  who  would  take  pleasure  la  patronizing  this  me- 
chanical prodigy  of  the  wilderness  'i 

Another  of  the  characters  I  intended  to  mention  is  named 
Euchella.  He  is  a  very  worthy  chief,  and  now  in  the  after- 
noon of  his  days.  He  is  quite  celebrated  among  his  people  as 
a  warrior,  but  is  principally  famous  for  important  services  ren- 


1  ||||MWtt|||||| 

■    it-*- 


i^lTll'ij 


l«'f '^.1 


»sm% 


<\ 


if 


a 


■■Hi 


i'A 


M 


H 

^ 

K 

1^ 

H 

mn 

■; 

%>: 


^ 


422 


CHEROKEE  CHA^CTERS. 


dered  by  him  to  the  United  States  Government  during  the 
Cherokee  troubles.  He,  and  a  band  of  one  hundred  followers, 
first  attracted  public  attention  by  evading,  for  upwards  of  a 
whole  year,  the  oflBcers  of  Government  who  had  been  com- 
manded to  remove  the  party  beyond  the  Mississippi.  It  hav- 
ing been  ascertained,  however,  that  Euchella  could  not  easily 
be  captured,  and  Avould  never  submit  to  leave  his  country,  it 
was  determined  that  an  overture  should  bo  made,  by  which  he 
and  his  brotherhood  of  warriors  could  be  secured  to  assist  the 
whites  in  their  troublesome  efforts  to  capture  three  Indians  who 
had  murdered  a  number  of  soldiers.  The  instrument  employed 
to  effect  a  recon -filiation  was  the  Indian  trader,  Mr.  Thomas, 
who  succeeded  in  appointing  a  meeting  with  Euchella  on  a  re- 
mote mountain-,  ^p. 

During  this  interview,  Mr.  Thomas  remonstrated  wi'/u 
Euchella,  and  toM  him  that,  if  he  would  join  the  whites,  he 
might  remain  'u  Carolina  md  he  at  peace.  "I  cannot  be  at 
peace,"  replied  the  warrior,  "because  it  is  now  a  whole  year 
that  your  scldiers  have  hunted  me  like  a  wild  deer.  I  havt 
suffered  from  the  white  man  more  than  I  can  bear.  I  had  a 
wife  and  a  little  child — a  brave,  bright-eyed  boy — and  because 
I  would  not  become  your  slave,  tuey  were  left  to  starve  upon 
the  mountains.  Yes ;  and  I  buried  them  with  my  own  hand, 
at  midnight.  For  a  whole  week  at  a  time  have  I  been  without 
bread  myself,  and  this  in  my  own  country  too.  I  cannot  bear 
to  think  upon  my  wrongs,  and  I  scorn  your  proposition."  It  so 
happened,  however,  that  he  partially  relented,  and  having  sub- 
mitted tlie  proposition  io  his  warriors,  whom  he  summoned  to 
his  side  by  a  whoop,  they  agreed  to  accept  it,  and  from  that 
time  Euchella  became  an  ally  of  the  army.  It  was  by  the 
efforts  of  Euchella  and  his  band  that  the  murderers  already 
mentioned  were  arrested  and  punished.  They  had  been  con- 
demned by  a  court  martial,  and  sentenced  to  bo  shot,  and  tho 
scorn  of  death  manifested  by  one  of  them  named  Charley,  is 
worth  recording.  lie  had  been  given  into  the  hands  of  Euchella, 
and  when  he  was  tied  to  tho  tree,  by  one  arm,  where  ho  was  to 
die,  (to  which  confinement  he  submitted  without  a  murmur,)  he 


':,v  ':f 


CHEROKEE  CHARACTERS. 


leen  com- 


askcd  permission  to  make  a  few  remarks,  which  was  of  course 
granted,  and  he  spoke  as  follows  :  "  And  is  it  by  your  hands, 
EuchcUa,  that  I  am  to  die?  We  have  been  brothers  together; 
but  Euchclla.  has  promised  to  be  ihe  white  man's  friend,  and  he 
must  do  his  duty,  and  poor  Charley  is  to  suffer  because  he 
loved  his  country.  0,  Euchella!  if  the  Cherokee  people  now 
beyond  the  Mississippi  carried  my  heart  in  their  bosoms,  they 
never  wov^d  have  left  their  beautiful  native  land — their  own 
mountain  land.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die ;  0,  no,  I  want  to  die, 
for  my  heart  is  very  heavy,  heavier  than  lead.  But,  Euchella, 
there  is  one  favor  that  I  would  ask  at  your  hands.  You 
know  that  I  had  a  little  boy,  who  was  lost  among  the  moun- 
tains. I  want  you  to  find  that  boy,  if  he  is  not  dead,  and  tell 
him  that  the  last  words  of  his  father  were  that  he  must  never 
go  beyond  the  Father  of  Waters,  but  die  in  the  lanc^of  his 
birth.  It  is  sweet  to  die  in  one's  own  country,  and  to  be  buried 
by  the  margin  of  one's  native  stream."  After  the  bandage 
had  been  placed  over  his  eyes,  a  little  delay  occurred  in  the 
order  of  execution,  when  Charley  gently  raised  the  bandage, 
and  saw  a  dozen  of  Euchella's  warriors  in  the  very  act  of 
firing;  ho  then  replaced  the  cloth,  without  manifesting  the 
least  anxiety  or  moving  a  muscle,  and  in  a  moment  more  the 
poor  savage  was  weltering  in  his  bloo  1.  And  so  did  all  three 
of  the  murderers  perish. 

Another  name  famous  in  the  unwritten  annals  of  Cherokee 
history,  is  that  of  an  Indian  named  Guess,  who  was  the  inven- 
tor of  the  Cherokee  alphabet.  This  alphabet  contains  eighty- 
six  characters,  each  one  of  which  represents  a  distinct  sound. 
It  can  be  acquired,  by  an  apt  scholar,  in  the  course  of  ten  days, 
and  is  now  the  foundation  of  the  Cherokee  literature.  Guess 
died  at  the  West  in  the  year  1842. 

The  individual  who  translated  the  New  Testament  was  an 
educated  Indian,  named  Uliaa  Boudinoty  who  lost  his  life  by 
the  hand  of  an  Indian  assassin.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he 
was  engaged  upon  a  translation  of  the  Bible,  and  was  cut  down 
in  the  midst  of  his  usefulness,  in  1880,  merely  because  ho  had 
the  foarleesnoss  and  the  honesty  to  disagree  with  a  majority  of 


l^^ki 


p^m' 


^f^: 


K   [ 


■fM,U 


'sv\*^k 


^ 


'W^'^' 


m 


CHEROKBE  OHARAOTBBS. 


the  Arkansas'  Cherokees  in  regard  to  a  certain  treaty.  John 
Ridge,  also  an  educated  Indian,  and  his  father  Major  Midge, 
were  hrave  and  honorable  men,  who  were  the  friends  of  Boudi- 
not,  and  like  him  perished  by  the  hands  of  assassins,  at  the 
same  time  and  for  the  same  cause.  The  elder  Bidge  acted  a 
conspicuous  part  in  the  battle  of  the  Horse-Shoe,  in  the  Creek 
war ;  while  the  younger  Ridge  was  mainly  distinguished  for  his 
intelligence  and  the  happy  influence  of  his  life  and  gapd  works. 


/^<J^■'Zim:^rm■ao^n 


^-m 


j'!^f~^5j^ 


HICKORY  NUT   GAP. 


fMn 


'\ ' 


"^ii<i  :, 


The  distance  from  Qualla  Town  to  the  Hickory  Niit  Gap  is 
sixty  miles.  The  first  half  of  the  route  is  exceedingly  moun- 
tainous and  almost  entirely  uncultivated,  but  iVe  valley  of 
Pigeon  river,  down  which  you  have  to  travel  for  a  ctnsiderable 
distance,  is  very  fertile  and  well  cultivated.  A  pastor  rl  charm 
seems  to  rest  upon  the  scenery,  and  in  this  particular  i  ircibly 
reminded  me  of  the  upper  valley  of  the  Mohawk.  I  oct  rpled 
the  most  of  two  days  in  performing  this  trip,  and  the  ^nly 
incident  that  I  met  with  which  was  at  all  unique,  was  upon  ihis 
wise.  I  had  stopped  at  a  farm-house  to  take  my  dinner.  It 
80  happened  that  my  host  was  about  to  erect  a  new  barn,  ai  d 
some  twenty  of  his  neighbors  were  assembled  for  the  purpote 
of  raising  the  frame  work  to  its  proper  position.  An  abundance 
of  whiskey  had  already  been  imbibed  by  a  few  of  this  rustic 
company,  and  among  these  was  one  individual  who  had  recently 
been  grossly  cheated  in  purchauing  a  horse  from  a  Tennessee 
horse-dealer.  He  had  given  a  mule  and  twenty  dollars  for  the 
stranger's  gelding,  and,  though  the  animal  was  quite  respectable 
in  appearance,  it  had  turned  out  to  be  old,  unsound,  ami  almost 
without  a  redeeming  quality.  The  individual  in  question  was 
noted  for  making  a  fool  of  himself  when  intoxicated,  and  en 
this  occasion  he  was  determined  to  prove  true  to  himself.  At 
this  time  his  horse  speculation  seemed  to  weigh  heavily  upon 
his  mind,  and  in  his  vehement  remarks  ho  took  particular  pains 
to  curse  the  entire  State  of  Tennessee,  including  President 
*  Polk.  The  poor  man  finally  became  so  completely  excited  that 
he  BWore  he  would  whip  the  first  man  he  met  on  the  road  who 


1 


guar 


%.. 


c  '^'*!«ai. 


( 


f 


f 


426 


HICKORY  NUT  GAP. 


/^H 


l'"^»l 

M 


happened  to  be  from  Tennessee ;  and  so  the  matter  rested.  In 
about  thirty  minutes  thereafter,  as  fortune  would  have  it,  a  man 
made  his  appearance  on  the  road,  apparently  from  the  West ; 
and  in  jeering  their  noisy  companion,  the  farmers  remarked 
that  "  now  he  would  have  a  chance  to  revenge  himself."  The 
excitement  of  the  horse-bitten  speculator  was  consequently 
greatly  increased,  and  when  the  stranger  reached  the  hill-top 
ho  was  accosted  as  follows : 

"May  I  ask  you,  sir,  if  you  come  from  Tennessee?" 

"  I  do.     What  will  jq%  have?"  replied  the  stranger. 

The  Carolinian  then  related  his  trading  story,  which  he  con- 
cluded by  carefully  reiterating  the  determination  he  had  made. 
The  stranger  laughed  at  the  idea,  and  was  about  to  resume  his 
journey,  when  the  reins  of  his  horse  were  seized,  and  he  found 
that  it  was  indeed  necessary  for  him  to  fight  his  way  out  of  the 
queer  scrape.  All  remonstrance  on  his  part  was  in  vain ;  but 
at  the  very  moment  the  fight  was  to  commence,  another  horse- 
man rode  up,  who  was  also  interrogated  as  to  his  native  State. 
His  presence  had  a  tendency  to  suspend  hostilities;  but  Avhen 
it  was  ascertained  that  he  was  only  a  Kentuckian,  the  Caroli- 
nian insisted  upon  going  on  with  his  business.  The  feelings  of 
the  Kentuckian  were  now  enlisted,  and  he  declared  his  intention 
of  regulating  the  fight;  whereupon  he  made  a  large  ring,  and 
taking  out  of  his  pocket  a  couple  of  pistols,  he  told  the  com- 
batants "to  go  ahead,''  and  at  the  same  time  warned  the 
bystanders  that  he  would  shout  the  first  man  that  interfered. 
The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was,  that  the  intoxicated 
man  received  a  cruel  thrashing  for  his  ridiculous  conduct,  and 
the  two  gentlemen  from  the  West  quietly  resumed  their  several 
journeys. 

On  my  Avay  to  this  place,  I  stopped  for  a  few  hours  at  Dear 
vers  Sulphur  Springs,  which  are  abovt  four  miles  from  the 
French  Broad  river,  on  the  road  to  Clarksville,  Georgia.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  popular  watering-places  in  the  South,  not 
only  on  account  of  the  medicinal  qualities  of  the  water,  but  on 
account  of  the  surrounding  scenery,  which  is  remarkably  inter- 
esting, and  also  for  the  additional  reason  that  the  style  in  which 


?T 


HICEORT  NUT  GAP. 


427 


people  are  entertained  is  well  worthy  of  even  such  places  as 
Saratoga.  The  several  buildings  connected  with  the  establish- 
ment usually  accommodate  about  two  hundred  families  during 
the  summer  months,  and  they  are  chiefly  from  the  cities  of 
Charleston  and  Savannah.  The  people  of  Eastern  North  Car- 
olina do  not  seem  to  know  that  they  have  such  a  delightful  re- 
treat within  their  borders,  which,  to  a  man  of  genuine  taste.,  is 
as  far  ahead  of  Saratoga  as  a  mountain  stream  is  ahead  of  a 
canal. 

With  regard  to  Ashville,  I  can  only  say  that  it  is  a  very  busy 
and  pleasant  village,  filled  with  intelligent  and  hospitable  inha- 
bitants, and  is  the  centre  of  a  mountain  land,  where  Nature  has 
been  extremely  liberal  and  tasteful  in  piling  up  her  mighty  bul- 
warks for  the  admiration  of  man.  Indeed,  from  the  summit  of 
a  hill  immediately  in  the  vicinity  of  the  village,  I  had  a  south- 
western view  which  struck  me  as  eminently  superb.  It  was 
near  the  sunset  hour,  and  the  sky  was  flooded  with  a  golden 
glow,  which  gave  a  living  beauty  to  at  least  a  hundred  moun- 
tain peaks,  from  the  centre  of  which  loomed  high  towards  the 
zenith  Mount  Pisgah  and  the  Cold  Mountain,  richly  clothed 
in  purple,  which  are  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles  distant,  and 
not  far  from  six  thousand  feet  in  height.  The  middle  distance, 
though  in  reality  composed  of  wood-crowned  hills,  presented 
the  appearance  of  a  level  plain  or  valley,  where  columns  of  blue 
smoke  were  gracefully  floating  into  the  upper  air,  and  whence 
came  the  occasional  tinkle  of  a  bell,  as  the  cattle  wended  their 
way  homeward,  after  roaming  among  the  unfenced  hills.  Di- 
rectly  at  my  feet  lay  the  little  town  of  Ashville,  like  an  oddly- 
shaped  figure  on  a  green  carpet ;  and  over  the  whole  scene 
dwelt  a  spirit  of  repose,  which  seemed  to  quiet  even  the  common 
throbbings  of  the  heart. 

M^  first  expedition  on  arriving  here  was  to  a  gorge  in  the 
Blue  Ridge  called  the  Hickory  Nut  Gap.  How  it  came  by 
that  name  I  cannot  imagine,  since  the  forests  in  this  particular 
region,  so  far  as  I  could  ascertain,  are  almost  entirely  destitute 
of  the  hickory  tree.  It  v  true  that  for  a  distance  of  four  miles 
the  gorge  is  watered  by  a  brook  called  after  the  hickory  nut, 


if-.-. 


i 


fr^^'^s^  yi 


fsi*" 


'<■  ■■"' 


>N."NJ 


428 


TllCKOEY  NUT  QiP. 


V  iOl 


M 


but  I  take  it  t^at  this  nam^  is  a  borrowed  one.  The  entire 
length  of  the  gap  is  about  nine  miles,  and  the  last  five  miles  are 
watered  by  the  Rocky  Broad  River.  The  upper  part  of  this 
stream  runs  between  the  Blue  Ridge  proper  and  a  spur  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  and  at  the  point  where  it  forces  a  channel  through 
the  spur  its  bed  is  exceedingly  rocky,  and  on  either  hand,  until 
it  reaches  the  middle  country  of  the  State,  it  is  protected  by  a 
series  of  mountain  bluifs.  That  portion  of  the  gorge  which 
might  be  called  the  gateway,  is  at  the  eastern  extremity.  From 
any  point  of  view  this  particular  spot  is  remarkably  imposing' 
the  gap  being  not  more  than  half  a  mile  wide,  though  appearing 
to  narrow  down  to  a  few  hundred  yards.  The  highest  bluff  is 
on  the  south  side,  and,  though  rising  to  the  height  of  full 
txtmnty-five  hundred  feet^  it  is  nearly  perpendicular,  and  midway 
up  its  front  stands  an  isolated  rock,  looming  against  the  sky, 
which  is  of  a  circular  form,  and  resembles  the  principal  turret 
of  a  stupendous  castle.  The  entire  mountain  is  composed  of 
granite,  and  a  large  proportion  of  the  bluff  in  question  positively 
hangs  over  the  abyss  beneath,  and  is  as  smooth  as  it  could  pos- 
sibly be  made  by  the  rains  of  uncounted  centuries.  Over  one 
portion  of  this  superb  cliff,  falling  far  down  into  some  undis- 
covered and  apparently  unattainable  pool,  is  a  stream  of  water, 
which  seems  to  be  the  offspring  of  the  clouds ;  and  in  a  neigh- 
boring brook  near  the  base  of  this  precipice  are  three  shooting 
waterfalls,  at  the  foot  of  which,  formed  out  of  the  solid  stone, 
are  three  holes,  which  are  about  ten  feet  in  diameter,  and  mea- 
sure from  forty  to  fifty  feet  in  depth.  But,  leaving  these  re- 
markable features  entirely  out  of  the  question,  the  mountain 
scenery  in  this  vicinity  is  as  beautiful  and  fantastic  as  any  I 
have  yet  witnessed  among  the  AUeghanies.  At  a  farm-house 
near  the  gap,  where  I  spent  a  night,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing an  English  gentleman  and  tourist,  and  he  informed  me  that, 
though  he  had  crossed  the  Alps  in  a  number  of  places,  yet  he 
had  never  seen  any  mountain  scenery  which  he  thought  more 
beautiful  than  that  of  the  Hickory  Nut  Gap.  My  best  view  of 
the  gorge  was  from  the  eastward,  and  just  as  the  sun,  with  a 
niagnificent  retinue  of  clouds,  was  sinking  directly  in  the  hollow 


HICKORY  iniT  GAP. 


429 


of  the  hills,  and  as  I  gazed  upon  the  prospect,  it  seemed  to  me, 
as  was  in  reality  the  case,  that  I  stood  at  the  very  threshold  of 
an  almost  boundless  Tvil  lerness  of  mountains. 

Before  visiting  this  remarkable  passage  through  the  moun- 
tains, I  endeavoro  '  "crtain  from  the  Cherokees  of  Qualla 
Town,  its  origin  name,  but  .without  succeeding.  It 
was  my  good  fort  to  obtain  a  romantic  legend  con- 
nected therewith.  it  from  the  lips  of  a  Chief  who 
glories  in  the  two  names  of  All  Bones  and  Flying  Squirrel, 
and,  though  he  occupied  no  less  than  two  hours  in  telling  the 
story,  I  will  endeavor  to  give  it  to  my  readers  in  about  fi\  e 
minutes. 

There  was  a  time  when  the  Cherokees  were  without  the 
famous  Tao-lungh,  or  tobacco  weed,  with  which  they  had  pre- 
viously been  made  acquainted  by  a  wandering  stranger  from  the 
far  East.  Having  smoked  it  in?  their  large  stone  pipes,  they 
became  impatient  to  obtain  it  in  abundance.  They  ascertained 
that  the  country  where  it  grew  in  the  greatest  quantities  was 
situated  on  the  big  waters,  and  that  the  gateway  to  that  coun- 
try (a  mighty  gorge  among  the  mountains)  was  perpetually 
guarded  by  an  immense  number  of  little  people  or  spirits.  A 
council  of  the  bravest  men  in  the  nation  was  called,  and,  while 
they  were  discussing  the  dangers  of  visiting  the  unknown  coun- 
try, and  bringing  therefrom  a  large  knapsack  of  the  fragrant 
tobacco,  a  young  man  stepped  boldly  forward  and  said  that  he 
would  undertake  the  task.  The  young  warrior  departed  oi  his 
mission  and  never  returned.  The  Cherokee  nation  were  now 
in  great  tribulation,  and  another  council  was  held  to  decide  upon 
a  new  measure.  At  this  council  a  celebrated  magician  rose  and 
expressed  his  willingness  to  relieve  his  people  of  their  diflScul- 
ties,  and  informed  them  that  he  would  visit  the  tobacco  country 
and  see  what  he  could  accomplish.  He  turned  himself  into  a 
mole,  and  as  such  made  his  appearance  eastward  of  the  moun- 
tains ;  but,  having  been  pursued  by  the  guardian  spirits,  he  was 
compelled  to  return  without  any  spoil.  He  next  turned  himself 
into  a  humming-bird,  and  thus  succeeded,  to  a  very  limited  ex- 
tent, in  obtaining  what  he  needed.     On  returning  to  his  coun- 


1^-' 


■w- 


ii"*:,',,,;, 
r'' 


i,jL.-— ^->       I 


mm 


&'■';■.. ^^ 


5:1.;  i  J 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


/. 


^>. 


1.0 


I.I 


■^  iiii    |2.2 

1^    12.0 


Hi 


\m  ii.4 


III 


1.6 


<^ 


^. 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporalion 


33  WIST  MAIN  STUIT 
WnSTIR.N.Y.  MStO 

(716)  trausoa 


\ 


K 

^ 


^ 


# 


480 


I.'  .'UOCV   -.'■' 


HICKORY  NUT  GAP. 


^,  Kefotmij  la' number  of  his  friends  at  the  point  of  death,  on 
account  of  their  intense  desire  for  the  fragrant  yreed ;  there- 
upon he  placed  son:  3  of  it  in  a  pipe,  and  having  blown  the  smoke 
into  the  nostrils  of  those  who  were  sick,  they  all  revived  and 
were  quite  happy.  The  magician  now  took  it  into  his  head 
that  he  would  revenge  the  Idss  of  the  young  warrior,  and  at  the 
same  time  become  the  sole  possessor  of  all  the  tobacco  in  the 
unknown  land.  He  therefore  turned  himself  into  a  whirlwind, 
and  in  passing  through  the  Hickory  Nut  Gorge  he  stripped  the 
mountains  of  their  vegetation,  and  scattered  huge  rocks  in  every 
part  of  the  narrow  valley ;  whereupon  the  little  people  were 
all  frightened  away,  and  he  was  the  only  being  in  the  country 
eastward  of  the  mountains.  In  the  bed  of  a  stream  he  found 
the  bones  of  the  ^young  warrior,  and  having  brought  them  to 
life,  and  turned  himself  into  a  man  again,  the  twain  returned 
to  their  own  country  heavily  laden  with  tobacco;  and  ever 
since  that  time  it  has  been  very  abundant  throughout  the  entire 
land. 


'^.,  V 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


'!"'.(: 


I  HAVB  just  returned  from  an  excursion  down  the  French 
Broad  River  to  Patton's  Warm  Springs,  and  the  neighboring 
curiosities,  and  I  now  purpose  to  describe  the  "  wonders  I  have 
seen."  The  original  Indian  name  of  the  French  Broad  Was 
Pse-li-eo,  the  meaning  of  which  I  have  not  been  ible  to  ascer- 
tain. Its  English  name  was  derived  from  a  famous  hunter 
named  French.  It  is  one  of  the  principal  tributaries  of  the 
Tennessee,  about  one  hundred  miles  long,  from  one  to  two  hun- 
dred yards  wide ;  and,  taking  its  rise  in  the  Blue  Ridge  near 
the  border  of  South  Carolina,  runs  in  a  northwestern  direction. 
Judging  of  the  whole,  by  a  b -action  of  fifty  miles,  lying  westward 
of  Ashville,  it  must  bo  considered  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
rivers  in  this  beautiful  land.  In  running  the  distance  above 
mentioned  it  has  a  fall  of  nearly  fifteen  hundred  feet,  and  its 
bed  seems  to  be  entirely  composed  of  solid  rock.  In  depth  it 
varies  from  five  to  fifteen  feet,  and,  generally  speaking,  is  quite 
clear,  abounding  in  a  great  variety  of  plebeian  fish.  Its  shores 
are  particularly  wild  and  rocky,  for  the  most  part  nearly  per- 
pendicular, varying  from  one  to  four  hundred  feet  in  height, 
and,  though  usually  covered  with  vegetation,  they  present  fre- 
quent clifis  of  granite,  freestone,  and  blue  limestone,  which  ac- 
tually droop  over  the  rushing  waters  and  present  a  most  im- 
posing appearance.  With  regard  to  its  botanical  curiosities,  it 
can  safely  be  said  that  a  more  fruitful  and  interesting  valley  can 
nowhere  bo  found  in  tho  Union.  Here  wo  have  not  only  every 
variety  of  American  forest  trees,  but  bushes,  plants,  flo'.  .  x 
and  vinos  in  tho  greatest  profusion,  and  of  the  most  vigorc  j(> 


ii?fil 


432 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


growth ;  many  of  the  grape  vines,  which  weigh  down  the  mighty 
sycamore,  seem  to  be  long  enough,  and  strong  enough,  to  link 
together  a  hundred  ships  o{  %ar.  When  it  is  remembered,  too, 
that  the  air  is  constantly  heavy  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers, 
and  tremulous  with  the  perpetual  roar  of  the  stream,  it  may  be 
readily  imagined  that  a  ride  down  the  French  Broad  is  a  unique 
pleasure.  Back  of  the  river  on  either  side  of  the  country  is 
hilly  and  somewhat  cultivated,  but  its  immediate  valley  contains 
nothing  that  smacks  of  civilization  but  a  turnpike  road,  and  an 
occasional  tavern.  This  road  runs  directly  along  the  water's 
edge  nearly  the  entire  distance,  and,  on  account  of  the  quantity 
of  travel  which  passes  over  it,  is  kept  in  admirable  repair.  It 
is  the  principal  thoroughfare  between  Tennessee  and  South 
Carolina,  and  on  immense  number  of  cattle,  horses,  and  hogs, 
are  annually  driven  over  it  to  the  seaboard  markets.  Over  this 
road  also  quite  a  large  amount  of  merchandise  is  constantly 
transported  for  the  merchants  of  the  interior,  so  that  mammoth 
wagons,  with  their  eight  and  ten  horses,  and  their  half-civilized 
teamsters,  are  as  plenty  as  blackberries,  and  afford  a  romantic 
variety  to  the  stranger. 

In  '  '-^ing  down  the  French  Broad,  I  overtook  a  gentleman  on 
hor^  '.,  who  accompanied  me  about  twenty  miles.  Imme- 
diately after  the  first  salutation  was  passed,  and  he  had  ascer- 
tained that  I  was  from  the  eastward,  he  questioned  me  with 
regard  to  the  latest  news  from  China.  I  was  surprised  at  the 
question,  and  after  telling  him  I  had  none  to  communicate,  I 
oould  not  refrain  from  asking  him  what  was  the  secret  of  his 
interest  in  that  remote  Empire.  He  replied  that  he  resided  on 
th .  j^^ench  Broad,  and  was  a  dealer  in  ginseng.  I  had  heard 
of  the  article  before,  and  knew  that  it  was  found  in  abundance 
throughout  this  mountain  region.  My  friend  described  it  as  a 
beautiful  pl>  t,  with  one  stem  growing  to  a  height  of  eighteen 
inches,  having  at  the  top  three  leaves,  each  composed  of  fine 
leaflets,  indented  along  the  margin  and  closely  resembling  the 
sarsaparilla  plant.  That  portion  of  it,  however,  which  is  prepared 
for  market  is  the  root.  Tht  Chinese  are  the  only  people  in  the 
world  who  make  any  use  of  it  whatever ;  but  with  them  it  has 


-H  =iA 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


433 


:''t     '■'  iiii 


been  an  article  of  commerce  from  time  immemorial.  It  is  said 
to  be  associated  in  some  way  or  other  with  an  unexplained  su- 
perstition. Formerly  it  was  obtained  exclusively  from  Tartary, 
and  the  Tartars  were  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  they  could 
never  find  it,  excepting  by  shooting  a  magic  arrow,  which  inva- 
riably fell  where  the  plant  was  abundant.  The  Chinese  call  it 
the  "  food  of  immortality,"  and  they  declare  it  to  be  a  remedy 
for  every  inherited  evil,  wholesome  for  the  frail  in  body,  re- 
freshing for  the  memory,  calming  the  wild  passions  and  bestow- 
ing inexpressible  delight.  It  is  said  also  that  the  right  for  col- 
lecting it  in  China  is  conferred  by  the  Emperor,  and  the  pun- 
ishment awarded  to  those  who  gather  it  without  permission  is 
perpetual  slavery.  It  is  not  thought  to  possess  any  valuable 
medicinal  quality,  and  only  has  the  effect  of  strengthening  the 
sensual  appetites.  It  is  used  in  the  same  manner  that  we  use 
tobacco,  and  to  the  tongue  is  an  agreeable  bitter.  It  has  been 
an  article  of  export  from  this  country  for  half  a  century,  and 
the  most  extensive  American  shippers  reside  in  Philadelphia. 
It  is  sold  for  about  sixty  cents  the  pound,  and  my  travelling 
companion  told  me  that  his  sales  amounted  to  about  forty 
thousand  dollars  per  annum.  What '  an  idea !  that  even  the 
celestials  are  dependent  upon  the  United  States  for  one  of  their 
cherished  luxuries,  and  that  luxury  a  common  unnoticed  plant 
of  the  wilderness !  Ours  is,  indeed  a  great  country." 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  the  Warm  Springs,  which  are  thirty- 
six  miles  from  Ashville,  and  within  six  of  the  Tennessee  line. 
Of  the  Springs  themselves  there  are  some  half  a  dozen,  but  the 
largest  is  covered  with  a  house,  and  divided  into  two  equal 
apartments,  either  one  of  which  is  sufficiently  large  to  allow  of 
a  swim.  The  temperature  of  the  water  is  105  degrees,  and  it 
is  a  singular  fact  that  rainy  weather  hab  a  tendency  to  increase 
the  heat,  but  it  never  varies  more  than  a  couple  of  degrees. 
All  the  springs  are  directly  on  the  southern  margin  of  the 
French  Broad ;  the  water  is  clear  as  crystal,  and  so  heavy 
that  even  a  child  may  be  thrown  into  it  with  little  danger  of 
being  drowned.  As  a  beverage  the  water  is  quite  ][^itable, 
and  it  is  said  that  some  people  can  drink  a  number  (^quarts 
28 


I'T" 


484 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


\  '    % 

1 

':-vl 

1 

1 

V 

1 

per  day,  and  yet  experience  none  but  beneficial  effects.  The 
diseaEfes  which  it  is  thought  to  cure  are  palsy,  rheumatism,  and 
cutaneous  affections ;  but  they  are  of  no  avail  in  curing  pulmo- 
nic or  dropsical  affections.  The  Warm  Springs  are  annually 
visited  by  a  large  number  of  fashionable  and  sickly  people  from 
all  the  Southern  States,  and  the  proprietor  has  comfortable  ac- 
commodations for  two  hundred  and  fifty  persons.  His  principal 
building  is  of  brick,  and  the  ball-room  is  230  feet  long.  '.'.lusic, 
dancing,  flirting,  wine-drinking,  riding,  bathing,  fishing,  scenery- 
hunting,  bowling,  and  reading,  are  all  practised  here  to  an  un- 
limited extent ;  but,  what  is  more  exciting  than  all  these  pleas- 
ures put  together,  is  the  rare  sport  of  deer-hunting  ;  and  hereby 
'*  hangs  a  tale"  to  which  I  must  devote  a  separate  paragraph. 

My  polite  landlord  had  intimated  his  intention  of  affording 
me  a  little  sport ;  and  immediately  after  a  twelve  o'clock  dinner, 
on  a  certain  day,  he  stepped  out  upon  his  piazza,  and  gave  two 
or  three  blasts  with  a  small  horn,  the  result  of  which  was,  that, 
in  about  fifteen  minutes,  a  negro  mounted  on  a  handsome  horse 
made  his  appearance,  accompanied  by  some  twenty  yelping 
hounds.  The  horn  was  next  handed  to  the  negro,  and  he  was 
requested  to  go  to  a  certain  spot  on  the  mountains  about  three 
miles  off,  and  put  the  dogs  out  after  a  deer.  Two  hoiT}  having 
elapsed,  the  landlord,  his  son,  and  myself  each  took  a  rifle,  and, 
after  riding  some  three  miles  up  the  French  Broad,  we  stationed 
ourselves  at  different  points,  for  the  purpose  of  welcoming  the 
deer,  which  was  expected  to  take  to  the  water  on  the  opposite 
side.  We  had  scarcely  been  ten  minutes  in  our  hiding  places 
before  the  loud  baying  of  the  hounds  was  heard,  as  they  were 
coming  down  one  of  the  mountain  ravines,  and  in  another  in- 
stant a  very  large  buck  (with  his  horns  as  yet  only  about  a  foot 
long)  plunged  into  the  rapid  stream.  Instead  of  crossing  the 
water,  however,  he  made  his  way  directly  down  the  river,  now 
swimming  and  now  leaping,  with  the  entire  pack  of  hounds 
directly  in  his  foamy  wake.  It  was  evident  that  he  considered 
himself  hard  pressed,  and,  though  now  approaching  a  very  rocky 
fall  ii^^e  stream,  he  gave  himself  to  the  current  and  went  over, 
and  ilHeemed  as  if  he  must  inevitably  perish.    But  another 


• — ^-61 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


4d5 


call  was  immediately  made  upon  our  sympathies,  for  we  disco- 
vered the  entire  pack  of  hounds  passing  into  the  same  hell  of 
waters.  We  remained  in  suspense,  however,  but  a  few  moments, 
for  we  saw  the  pursued  and  the  pursaers  all  emerge  from  the 
foam  entirely  unharmed,  and  still  struggling  in  the  race.  Now 
the  deer  took  to  an  island,  and  then  to  another,  and  now  again 
to  the  water,  and  away  did  the  whole  pack  speed  down  the 
river.  By  this  time  the  buck  was  evidently  becoming  tired, 
and  certain  of  being  overtaken ;  and,  having  reached  a  shallow 
place  in  the  river,  he  turned  upon  the  dogs  and  stood  at  bay. 
His  movements  during  this  scene  were  indeed  superb,  and  I 
could  not  but  pity  the  noble  fellow's  condition.  His  sufferings, 
however,  were  of  short  duration,  for,  while  thus  standing  in  full 
front  of  his  enemies,  the  landlord's  son  sent  a  ball  through  his 
heart  from  the  shore,  and  with  one  frightful  leap  the  monarch 
of  the  mountains  was  floating  in  a  crimson  pool.  The  mounted 
negro  now  made  his  appearance,  as  if  by  magic,  and,  having 
waded  and  swam  his  horse  to  the  dead  deer,  took  the  creature 
in  tow,  brought  him  to  the  land,  threw  him  upon  his  horse,  and 
so  ended  the  afternoon  deer-hunt. 

About  six  miles  from  the  Warm  Springs,  and  directly  on  the 
Tennessee  line,  arc  located  a  brotherhood  of  perpendicular 
cliffs,  which  are  known  as  the  Painted  Rocks.  They  are  of 
limestone,  and  rise  from  the  margin  of  the  French  Broad  to  the 
height  of  two,  three  and  lour  hundred  feet.  They  are  of  a 
yellowish  cast,  owing  to  the  drippings  of  a  mineral  water,  and 
In  form  as  irregular  and  fantastic  as  can  well  bo  imagined. 
They  extend  along  the  river  nearly  a  mile,  and  at  every  step 
present  now  phases  of  beauty  and  grandeur.  Taken  separately, 
it  requires  but  a  trifling  effort  of  the  fancy  to  find  among  them 
towers,  ramparts  and  moats,  steeples  and  domes  in  abundance ; 
but  when  taken  as  a  whole,  and  viewed  from  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river,  they  present  the  appearance  of  a  once  magnificent 
city  in  ruins.  Not  only  are  they  exceedingly  beautiful  in 
themselves,  but  the  surrounding  scenery  is  highly  attractive, 
for  the  mountains  seem  to  have  huddled  themselves  together 
for  the  purpose  of  looking  down  upon  and  admiring  the  winding 


^ 


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m 


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if"  '%m 


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■ifi:;;;" 


436 


THB  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


and  rapid  stream.  With  regard  to  historical  and  legendary 
associations,  the  Painted  Rocks  are  singularly  barren ;  in  this 
particular,  hoirever,  they  are  like  the  entire  valley  of  the 
French  Broad,  where  ralics  of  a  by-gone  people  are  few  and 
far  between.  The  mgged  aspect  of  this  country  would  seem 
to  imply  that  it  was  never  ftgularly  inhabited  by  the  Indians, 
but  was  their  hunting  ground;  and  what  would  appear  to 
strengthen  this  idea  is  the  fact  that  it  is,  even  at  the  present 
day,  particularly  famous  for  its  game. 

On  the  day  that  I  returned  from  my  trip  down  the  French 
Broad,  the  weather  was  quite  showery,  and  the  consequence 
was,  the  rain  was  occasionally  employed  as  an  apology  for 
stopping  and  enjoying  a  quiet  conversation  with  the  people  on 
the  road.  At  one  of  the  places  where  I  halted  there  was  a 
contest  going  on  between  two  Whigs,  concerning  the  talents  of 
the  honorable  gentleman  who  represents  the  famous  county  of 
Buncombe  in  Congress.  The  men  were  both  strongly  attached 
to  the  representative,  and  the  contest  consisted  in  their  efforts 
to  excel  each  other  in  complimenting  their  friend,  and  the  cli- 
max of  the  argument  seemed  to  be  that  Mr.  Glinoman  was  not 
^'  some  pumpkins,"  but ''  pumpkins."  The  strangeness  of  this 
expression  attracted  my  attention,  and  when  an  opportunity 
offered  I  questioned  -the  successful  disputant  as  to  the  origin 
ftnd  meaning  of  the  phrase  he  had  employed,  and  the  substance 
of  his  reply  was  that  a  small  man,  intellectually,  was  nothing ; 
a  man  of  average  smartness,  some  j7um^Kn«;  and  a  superior 
man,  pumpkins. 

At  another  of  the  houses  where  I  tarried  for  an  hour,  it  was 
my  fortune  to  arrive  just  in  time  to  witness  the  conclusion  of  a 
domestic  quarrel  between  a  young  husband  and  his  wife.  Ou 
subsequently  inquiring  into  the  history  of  this  affectionate 
couple,  I  obtained  the  following  particulars :  The  young  man 
was  reported  to  be  a  very  weak-minded  individual,  and  ever 
since  his  marriage  had  been  exceedingly  jealous  of  his  wife, 
who  (as  I  had  seen)  was  quite  beautiful,  but  known  to  be  per- 
fectly true  to  her  husband.  Jealousy,  however,  was  the  rage 
of  the  man,  and  he  was  constantly  making  himself  very  ridi- 


THE  FRENCH  BROAD  RIVER. 


437 


culous.  His  wife  remonstrated,  but  at  the  same  time  appre- 
ciated his*folly,  and  acted  accordingly.  On  one  occasion  she 
was  politely  informed  by  her  husband  that  he  was  very  unhappy, 
and  intended  to  hang  himself.  "  Very  well,"  replied  the  wife, 
"  I  nope  you  will  have  a  good  time."  The  husband  was  des- 
perate, and  having  obtained  a  rope,  and  carefully  adjusted  a 
certain  stool,  he  slipped  the  former  over  his  head,  and,  when 
he  knew  that  his  wife  was  looking  on,  he  swung  himself  to  a 
cross-beam  of  his  cabin.  In  playing  his  trick,  however,  he  un- 
fortunately kicked  over  the  stool,  (which  he  had  placed  in  a 
convenient  spot  for  future  use  in  regaining  his  feet,)  and  was 
well  nigh  losing  his  life  in  reality,  but  was  saved  by  the  timely 
assistance  of  his  wife.  His  first  remark  on  being  .ci^t  down 
was,  "  Jane,  won't  you  please  go  after  the  doctor :  I've  twisted 
my  neck  dreadfully." 

I  also  picked  up,  while  travelling  along  the  French  Broad, 
the  following  bit  of  history  connected  with  one  of  the  hand- 
somest plantations  on  said  river.  About  forty  years  ago  a 
young  girl  and  her  brother  (who  was  a  mere  boy)  found  them- 
selves in  this  portion  of  North  Carolina,  strangers,  orphans, 
friendless,  and  with  only  th<^  moneyed  inheritance  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars.  'V,  ui'.  this  money  the  girl  bought  a 
piece  of  land,  and,  her  little  brother  having  died,  she  hired  her- 
self out  as  housekeeper.  In  process  of  time  she  married,  gave 
her  little  property  into  the  keeping  of  her  husband,  who  squan- 
dered it,  died  a  drunkard,  and  left  her  without  a  penny.  By 
the  kindness  of  a  friend  she  borrowed  a  couple  of  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  came  to  Ashville  and  opened  a  boarding-house.  In 
the  course  of  five  years  she  made  ten  thousand  dollars,  married 
a  second  time,  and  by  the  profligacy  and  death  of  her  second 
husband  again  lost  every  penny  of  her  property.  Years  elapsed, 
and  the  unceasing  industry  of  the  poor  ^idow  was  recompensed 
by  the  smiles  of  fortune,  and  she  is  now  the  owner  of  a  large  and 
valuable  plantation,  which  is  the  fruit  of  her  own  individual 
toil,  and  a  number  of  strong  and  manly  sons  are  the  comfoits 
of  her  old  age.  But  enough !  I  am  now  in  Ashville,  and  at  the 
conclusion  of  my  letter. 


*- 


tiittta 


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f 

m 

■ii;,.: 

1^ 

f^ 

11 

4.^^ 

r 

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■4 

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mm 

!  . 


BLACK   MOUNTAIN. 


Twenty-five  miles  froiu  Ashville,  in  a  northerly  direction, 
stands  Black  Mountain,  which  is  the  gloomy  looking  patriarch 
of  the  AUeghanies,  and  claimed  to  be  the  most  elevated  point 
of  land  eastward  of  the  Mississippi.  It  is  nearly  seven  thou- 
sand feet  high,  and,  with  its  numerous  pinnacles,  covers  an 
area  of  territory  which  must  measure  in  length  a  distance  of  at 
least  twenty  miles.  Unlike  its  fellows  in  this  Southern  land, 
it  is  covered  with  a  dense  forest  from  base  to  summit,  where 
may  be  found  nearly  every  variety  of  American  trees,  from  the 
willow  and  the  elm,  to  the  oak  and  the  Canada  fir ;  and  it  is 
the  parent  of  at  least  a  hundred  streams.  Not  a  rood  of  its 
rocky  and  yet  fertile  surface  has  ever  been  cultivated,  and  its 
chief  inhabitants  are  the  panther,  the  bear,  and  the  deer. 
Almost  its  only  human  denizen  is  one  Frederick  Burnet,  a 
"  mighty  hunter,"  who  is  now  upwards  of  forty  years  of  age, 
and  is  said  to  have  slain  between  five  hundred  and  six  hundred 
bears  upon  this  mountain  alone.  To  obtain  an  adequate  idea 
of  its  height  and  grandeur,  it  should  be  viewed  from  at  least  a 
dozen  points  of  the  compass,  and  with  regard  to  the  circular 
and  apparently  boundless  panorama  which  it  commands,  it  can 
be  far  better  imagined  than  described.  On  questioning  one  of 
the  wild  natives  of  the  region  as  to  the  character  of  this  pros- 
pect, he  replied :  "  Good  heavens !  sir,  it  looks  down  upon  every 
seaport  in  the  United  States,  and  across  the  whole  of  Mexico." 
On  learning  this  truly  remarkable  circumstance,  my  curiosity 
was  of  course  excited,  and  I  questioned  my  informant  as  to  the 
facilities  of  looking  off  from  the  peak.      "Directly  on  the 


!*%f 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN. 


48tf 


higheL!^  poiDt,"  said  he,  ''stands  a  single  fir-tree,  which  you 
have  to  climb,  and  thus  look  down  on  all  creation."  And  how 
do  you  reach  the  summit  ?"  I  continued.  "  0  !  it's  a  very  easy 
matter,  stranger ;  you  only  have  to  walk  about  six  miles,  and 
right  straight  up  the  roughest  country  you  ever  did  see." 

With  this  intelligence  I  was  fully  satisfied,  and  thereupon 
concluded  that  I  should  waste  none  of  my  strength  merely  for 
the  privilege  of  *'  climbing  a  tree,"  even  though  it  were  the 
most  elevated  in  the  land.  One  of  my  Ashville  friends,  how- 
ever, to  whom  I  had  brought  let:  rs  of  introduction,  spoke  to 
ine  of  the  Black  Mountain  in  the  most  enthusiastic  terms,  said 
that  I  ought  to  visit  it,  and  added  that  he  had  gotten  up  a  party 
of  one  dozen  gentlemen,  including  himself,  who  were  resolved 
upon  visiting  the  foot  of  the  mountain  in  my  company.  They 
were  described  as  lovers  of  scenery,  anglers  and  hunters,  and  it 
was  proposed  that  we  should  go  on  horseback,  though  accom- 
panied by  a  kind  of  tender,  consisting  of  a  small  wagon  load  of 
provisions,  fishing-rods,  and  guns,  which  was  to  be  under  the 
especial  charge  of  an  old  negro  named  ^am  Drymond.  I  was 
of  course  delighted  with  this  arrangement,  and,  as  the  expedi- 
tion was  accomplished  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  concerned,  I 
will  give  an  account  of  its  principal  incidents. 

Our  cavalcade  started  at  the  break  of  day,  and,  as  Miss  For- 
tune would  have  it,  in  what  we  imagined  a  morning  shower.  It 
so  happened,  however,  that  it  rained  almost  without  ceasing 
until  we  reached  our  place  of  destination,  which  was  a  log 
shantee  not  far  from  the  base  of  thv  '31ack  Mountain,  and  about 
six  miles  from  its  summit.  Our  course  lay  up  the  valley  of  the 
tSwannanoah,  which,  in  spite  of  the  rain,  I  could  not  but  admire 
for  its  varied  beauties.  This  river  rises  on  the  Black  Mountain, 
is  a  charming  tributary  of  the  French  Broad,  from  five  to 
twenty  yards  in  width,  cold  and  clear,  very  rapid,  and  through- 
out its  entire  length  is  overshaded  by  a  most  luxuriant  growth 
of  graceful  and  sweet-scented  trees  and  vines.  The  plantations 
on  this  stream  are  highly  cultivated,  the  surrounding  scenery 
is  mountainous,  graceful,  and  picturesque,  and  among  the  small 
but  numerous  waterfalls,  which  make  the  first  half  of  its  course 


fM^ 


■Wi 


m 


SI 


jgfc'tS 


til  ,  .m\ 


iiM 


; 


440 


BLACK  MOURTAIK. 


exceed&gly  romantic,  may  be  enjoyed  the  finest  of  tront 
fishing. 

To  describe  the  appearance  of  our  party  as  we  descended  the 
Swannanoah,  through  the  mud  and  rain,  were  quite  impossible 
without  employing  a  military  phrase.  We  looked  more  like  a 
party  of  "  used  up"  cavaliers,  returning  from  an  unfortunate 
siege,  than  one  in  pursuit  of  pleasure ;  and  in  spite  of  our 
efforts  to  be  cheerful,  a  few  of  our  faces  were  lengthened  to  an 
uncommon  degree.  Some  of  our  company  were  decided  charac- 
ters, and  a  variety  of  professions  were  represented.  Our  cap- 
tain was  a  banker,  highly  intelligent,  and  rode  a  superb  horse; 
our  second  captain  was  a  Lambert-like  gentleman,  with  scarlet 
Mexican  cloak :  we  had  an  fflitor  with  us,  whose  principal  ap- 
pendage was  a  long  pipe ;  there  was  also  a  young  physician, 
wrapped  up  in  a  blue  blanket;  also  a  young  graduate,  en- 
veloped in  a  Spanish  cloak,  and  riding  a  beautiful  pony ;  also 
an  artist,  and  then  a  farmer  or  two ;  also  a  merchant ;  and 
last  of  all  came  the  deponent,  with  an  immense  plaid  blanket 
wrapped  round  his  body,  and  a  htfge  pair  of  boots  hanging 
from  his  legs,  whose  romantic  appearance  was  somewhat  en- 
hanced by  the  fact  that  his  horse  was  the  ugliest  in  the  country. 
Long  before  reaching  our  place  of  destination,  a  freshet  came 
pouring  down  the  bed  of  the  Swannanoah,  and,  as  we  had  to 
ford  it  at  least  twenty  times,  we  met  ^ith  a  variety  of  mishaps, 
which  were  particularly  amusing.  The  most  unique  incident, 
however,  was  as  follows :  The  party  having  crossed  a  certain 
ford,  a  motion  was  made  that  we  should  wait  and  see  that  old 
Drymond  made  the  passage  in  safety.  We  did  so,  and  spent 
about  one  hour  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  in  a  most  impa- 
tient mood,  for  the  old  man  travelled  very  slowly,  and  the 
clouds  were  pouring  down  the  rain  most  abundantly.  And 
what  greatly  added  to  our  discomfort  was  the  fact,  that  oor 
horses  got  into  a  cluster  of  nettles,  which  made  them  almost 
unmanageable.  In  due  time  the  negro  made  his  appearance, 
and  plunged  into  the  stream.  Hardly  had  be  reached  the 
middle,  before  his  horse  became  unruly,  and  having  broken 
entirely  loose  from  the  wagon,  disappeared  down  the  stream, 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN. 


441 


leaving  the  vehicle  in  a  most  dangerous  position,  near  the  centre 
thereof,  with  a  tremendous  torrent  Ashing  on  either  side,  and 
the  poor  negro  in  the  attitude  of  despair.  He  was  indeed  al- 
most frightened  to  death ;  but  his  woe-begone  appearance  was 
80  comical,  that  in  spite  of  his  real  danger,  and  the  prayer  he 
offered,  tho  whole  party  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  One  re- 
mark made  by  the  negro  was  this :  "  0  Massa,  dis  is  de  last  o' 
poor  old  Drymond — his  time's  come."  But  it  so  happened 
that  our  old  friend  was  rescued  from  a  watery  grave :  but  I  am 
compelled  to  state  that  our  provisions,  which  were  now  trami- 
ferred,  with  old  Drymond,  on  the  b£icl<  of  the  horse,  were 
greatly  damaged,  and  we  resumed  our  journey,  with  our  spirits 
at  a  much  lower  ebb  than  the  stream  which  had  caused  the 
mishap. 

Wd  arrived  at  a  vacant  cabin  on  the  mountain,  our  place  of 
destination,  about  noon,  when  the  weather  became  clear,  and 
our  drooping  spirits  were  revived.  The  cabin  stood  on  the 
margin  of  the  Swannanoah,  and  was  completely  hemmed  in  by 
immense  forest  trees.  Our  first  movement  was  to  fasten  and 
feed  the  horses ;  and  having  satisfied  our  own  appetites  with  a 
cold  lunch,  a  portion  of  the  company  went  a  fishing,  while  the 
remainder  secured  the  services  of  the  hunter  Burnet,  and  some 
half  dozen  of  his  hounds,  and  endeavored  to  kill  a  deer.  At 
the  sunset  hour  the  anglers  returned  with  a  lot  of  two  or  three 
hundred  trout,  and  the  hunters  with  a  handsome  doe.  With 
this  abundant  supply  of  forest  delicacies,  and  a  few  "  knick- 
knacks"  that  we  had  brought  with  us,  we  managed  to  get  up  a 
supper  of  the  first  water,  but  each  man  was  his  own  cook,  and 
our  fingers  and  hands  were  employed  in  the  place  of  knives  and 
plates.  While  this  interesting  business  was  going  on  we  dis- 
patched Burnet  after  a  fiddler,  who  occupied  a  cabin  near  his 
own,  and  when  the  musical  gentleman  made  his  appearance,  we 
were  ready  for  the  "  evening's  entertainment." 

We  devoted  two  hours  to  a  series  of  fantastic  dances,  and 
when  we  became  tired  of  this  portion  of  tho  frolic,  we  spent  an 
hour  or  so  in  singing  songs,  and  wound  up  the  evening  by  tell- 
ing stories.    Of  the  hundred  and  one  that  were  related,  only  two 


■••-iJ 

-4 


i!  '*^'-!. 


»•"'" 


^:l  ■'•i-m 


442 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN. 


were  at  all  connected  «rith  the  Black  Mountain ;  but  as  these 
were  Indian  legends,  and*  gathered  from  different  sources,  by 
the  gentlemen  present,  I  will  preserve  them  in  this  letterfor 
the  edification  of  those  interested  in. such  matters.  On  the 
north  side  of  Black  Mountain  there  was  once  a  cave,  where  all 
the  animals  in  the  world  were  closely  confined;  and  before 
that  time  they  had  never  been  known  to  roam  over  the  moun- 
tains as  they  do  now.  All  these  animals  were  in  the  keeping 
of  an  old  Cherokee  chief.  This  man,  who  had  a  mischievous 
son,  often  came  home  with  a  fine  bear  or  deer,  but  would  never 
tell  his  son  or  any  other  person  where  he  found  so  much  valu- 
able game.  The  son  did  not  like  this,  and  on  one  occasion 
when  his  father  went  out  after  food  he  hid  himself  Among  the 
trees,  and  watched  his  movements.  He  saw  the  old  man  go  to 
the  cave,  already  mentioned,  and,  as  he  pushed  away  a  big 
stone,  out  ran  a  fine  buck,  which  he  killed  with  an  arrow,  and 
then  rolled  back  the  stone.  When  the  old  man  was  gone  home 
with  Idd  deer,  the  boy  went  to  the  cave,  and  thought  that  he 
would  try  his  luck  in  killing  game.  He  rolled  away  the  stone, 
when  out  jumped  a  wolf,  which  so  frightened  him  that  he  forgot 
to  replace  the  stone,  and,  before  he  knew  what  he  was  about, 
all  the  animals  made  their  escape,  and  were  fleeing  down  the 
mountain  in  every  possible  direction.  They  made  a  dreadful 
noise  for  a  while,  but  finally  came  together  in  pairs,,  and  so 
have  continued  to  multiply  down  to  the  present  time.  When 
the  father  found  out  what  the  foolishness  of  his  son  had  accom- 
plished, he  became  very  unhappy,  and  in  less  than  a  week  he 
disappeared,  and  was  never  heard  of  again.  The  boy  also  be- 
came very  unhappy,  and  spent  many  days  in  trying  to  find  his 
father,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  As  a  last  resort  ho  tried  an  old 
Indian  experiment  which  consisted  in  shooting  arrows,  to  find 
out  in  which  direction  the  old  man  had  gone.  The  boy  fired 
an  arrow  towards  the  north,  but  it  returned  and  fell  at  his  feet, 
and  he  knew  that  his  father  had  not  travelled  in  that  direction. 
He  also  fired  one  towards  *he  east  and  the  south  and  the  west, 
but  they  all  came  back  in  the  same  manner.  Ho  then  thought 
that  he  would  fire  one  directly  above  his  head,  and  it  so  hap- 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN. 


448 


'f^^>l 


ffr-i"*. 


pened  that  this  arrow  never  returned,  and  so  the  boy  knew 
that  bis  father  had  gone  to  the  spirit  land.  The  Great  Spirit 
was  angry  with  the  Cherokee  nation,  and  to  punish  it  for  the 
offenc^of  the  foolish  boy  he  tore  away  the  cave  from  tb^  side 
of  the  Black  Mountain,  and  left  only  a  large  cliff  in  its  place, 
which  is  now  a  conspicuous  feature ;  and  he  then  declared  that 
the  time  would  come  when  another  race  of  men  should  possess 
the  mountains  where  the  Cherokees  had  flourished  for  many 
generations. 

Another  legend  was  as  follows :  Once,  in  the  olden  times, 
when  the  animals  of  the  earth  had  the  power  of  speech,  a  red 
deer  and  a  terrapin  met  on  the  Black  Mountain.  The  deer 
ridiculed  the  terrapin,  boasted  of  his  own  fleetness,  and  proposed 
that  the  twain  should  run  a  race.  The  creeping  animal  as- 
sented to  the  proposition.  The  race  was  to  extend  from  the 
Black  Mountain  to  the  summit  of  the  third  pinnacle  extending 
to  the  eastward.  The  day  was  then  fixed,  and  the  animals  se- 
parated. During  the  intervening  time  the  cunning  terrapin 
secured  the  services  of  three  of  its  fellows  resembling  itself  in 
appearance,  and  having  given  them  particular  directions,  sta- 
tioned them  upon  the  several  peaks  over  which  the  race  was  to 
take  place.  The  appointed  day  arrived,  and  the  deer,  as  well 
as  the  first  mentioned  terrapin,  were  faithfully  on  the  ground. 
All  things  being  ready,  the  word  was  given,  and  away  started 
the  doer  at  a  break-neck  speed.  Just  as  ho.  reached  the  sum- 
mit of  the  first  hill  he  heard  the  shout  of  a  terrapin,  and  as  he 
supposed  it  to  bo  his  antagonist,  he  was  greatly  perplexed,  but 
continued  on  his  course.  On  reaching  the  top  of  the  second 
hill,  he  heard  another  shout  of  defiance,  and  was  more  aston- 
ished than  ever,  but  onward  still  did  he  continue.  Just  before 
reaching  the  summit  of  the  third  hill,  the  deer  heard  what  he 
supposed  to  be  the  same  shout,  and  he  gave  up  the  race  in  des- 
pair. On  returning  to  the  starting-place,  he  found  his  anta- 
gonist in  a  calm  and  collected  mood,  and,  when  he  demanded 
an  explanation,  the  terrapin  solved  the  mystery,  and  then 
begged  the  deer  to  remember  that  mind  could  sometimes  ao- 
oomplish  what  wa||often  beyond  the  reach  of  the  swiftest  legs. 


% 

':(• 


f  ■  1 


'  .«  'J 


444 


BLACK  MOUNTAIN. 


1  "^  \'^'^ 


With  regard  to  the  manner  in  nrhich  our  party  spent  the 
night  at  the  foot  of  Black  Mountain,  I  can  only  say  that  we 
slept  upon  the  floor,  and  that  our  saddles  were  our  only  pillows. 
The  morning  of  the  next 'day  we  devoted  to  an  unsuAessful 
hunt  after  a  bear,  and  a  portion  of  us  having  thrown  the  fly  a 
sufficient  length  of  time  to  load  old  Drymond  with  trout,  we  all 
started  on  our  return  to  Ashville,  reached  the  village  just  as 
the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  western  mountains. 


.iY;^><h    ^ 


;  1 ,  •    -  i.  f'    .■  ; ;  I  >    '111! 


,;'ii-,;\^  (^'yt(^'":'h.: 


','    ■    '^t-  /i'''i^  '  ::,s\<'  hixK  ,f^>vi'«-ti: 


>;! 


THE   CATAWBA    COUNTRY. 


B.t  .... 


V.  Wf''' 


I  NOW  write  from  a  log  cabin  situated  on  the  Catawba  river, 
and  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  valleys.     My  ride  from 
Ashville  to  Burnsville,  a  distance  of  over  forty  miles,  was  unat< 
tended  by  a  single  interesting  incident,  and  afforded  only  one 
mountain  prospect  that  caused  me  to  rein  in  my  horse.     But 
the  prospect  alluded  to  embraced  the  entire  outline  of  Bald 
Mountain,  which,  being  one  of  the  loftiest  in  this  section  of 
country,  and  particularly  barren,  presented  a  magnificent  ap> 
pearance.     On  the  extreme  summit  of  this  mountain  is  a  very 
large  and  an  intensely  cold  spring  of  water,  and  in  its  immedi- 
ate vicinity  a  small  cave  and  the  ruins  of  a  log  cabin,  which  are 
associated  with  a  singular  being  named  David  Greer,  who  once 
made  this  upper  world  his  home.     He  first  appeared  in  thia 
country  about  fifty  years  ago ;  his  native  land,  the  story  of  his 
birth,  and  his  early  history,  were  alike  unknown.     Soon  after 
his  arrival  among  the  mountains,  he  fell  desperately  in  love 
with  the  daughter  of  a  farmer,  but  his  suit  was  rejected  by  the 
maiden,  and  strenuously  opposed  by  all  her  friends.     Soon 
after  this  disappointment  the  lover  suddenly  disappeared,  and 
was  subsequently  found  residing  on  Bald  Mountain  in  the  cave 
already  mentioned.   Hero  ho  lived  the  life  of  a  literary  recluse, 
and  is  said  to  have  written  a  singular  work  upon  religion,  and 
another  which  purported  to  bo  a  treatise  on  human  government. 
In  the  latter  production  he  proulaimed  himself  the  sole  proprie- 
tor of  Bald  Mountain,  and  made  it  known  to  the  world  that  all 
who  should  ever  become  his  neighbors  must    abmit  to  the  laws 
he  had  himself  enacted.    The  prominent  actions  of  his  life 


MS'-  Xi 


.)*«.<•; 


■I;. 


*-'"l 


446 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNTRY. 


were  "  few  and  far  between,"  but  particularly  infamous.  The 
first  that  brought  him  into  notice  was  as  follows :  A  few  years 
after  it  was  ascertained  that  he  had  taken  possession  of  this 
■mountain,  the  authorities  of  the  county  sent  a  messenger  to  ■ 
Greer,  and  demanded  a  poll-tax  of  seventy-five  cents.  The 
hermit  said  he  would  attend  to  it  on  the  next  court-day,  and 
his  word  was  accepted.  On  the  day  in  question,  Greer  punc- 
tually made  his  appearance,  but,  instead  of  paying  over  the 
money,  he  pelted  the  windows  of  the  court-house  with  stones, 
and  drove  the  judges,  lawyers,  and  clients  all  out  of  the  village, 
and  then,  with  a  rifle  in  hand,  returned  to  his  mountain  dwell- 
ling.  For  some  months,  after  this  event  he  amused  himself  by 
mutilating  all  the  cattle  which  he  happened  to  discover  on  what 
he  called  his  domain,  and  it  is  said  was  in  the  *habit  of  trying 
the  power  of  his  rifle  by  shooting  down  upon  the  plantations  of 
his  neighbors.  The  crowning  event  of  David  Greer's  life,  howe- 
ver, consisted  in  his  shooting  to  the  ground  in  cold  blood,  and 
in  the  broad  daylight,  a  man  named  Iliggins.  The  only  excuse 
that  he  ofiered  for  committing  this  murder  was  that  the  de- 
ceased had  been  found  hunting  for  deer  on  that  portion  of  land 
which  he  claimed  as  his  own.  For  this  ofteuce  Greer  was 
brought  to  trial  and  acquitted  on  the  ground  of  insanity.  When 
this  decision  was  made  known,  the  criminal  was  greatly  enraged, 
and,  when  released,  started  for  his  cabin,  muttering  loud  and 
deep  curses  against  the  injustice  of  the  laws.  In  process  of 
time  anumbe^of  attempts  were  made  to  take  his  life,  and  it  was 
a  common  occurrence  with  him  to  be  awakened  at  midnight  by 
a  ball  passing  through  the  door  of  his  cabin.  After  living  upon 
the  mountain  for  a  period  of  twenty  years,  ho  finally  concluded 
to  abandon  his  solitary  life,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  one  of  the 
settlements  on  the  Tennessee  side  of  Bald  Mountain.  Hero, 
for  a  year  or  two,  he  worked  regularly  in  an  iron  forge,  but 
having  had  a  dispute  with  a  fellow-workman,  swore  that  he 
would  shoot  him  within  five  hours,  and  started  after  his  rifle. 
Tho  offf^ding  party  was  named  Tompkins,  and  after  consulting 
with  his  friends  as  to  what  course  he  ought  to  pursue,  in  view 
of  the  uttered*  threat,  he  was  advised  to  take  the  law  in  his 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNffRT. 


447 


0,  in  view 


own  hands.  He  took  this  advice,  and,  as  David  Greer  was 
discovered  walking  along  the  road  with  rifle  in  hand,  Tompkins 
shot  him  through  the  heart,  and  the  hurial-place  of  the  hermit 
is  now  unknown.  Public  opinion  was  on  the  side  of  Tompkins, 
and  he  was  never  summoned  to  account  for  the  defensive  mur- 
der he  had  committed. 

In  coming  from  Burnsville  to  this  place,  I  enjoyed  two  moun- 
tain landscapes,  which  were  supremely  beautiful  and  imposing. 
The  first  was  a  northern  view  of  Black  Mountain  from  the  mar- 
gin of  the  South  Toe  river,  and  all  its  cliffs,  defiles,  ravines, 
and  peaks  seemed  as  light,  dreamlike,  and  airy  as  the  clear 
blue  world  in  which  they  floated.  The  stupendous  pile  ap- 
peared tc  have  risen  from  the  earth  with  all  its  glories  in  their 
prime,  as  if  to  join  the  newly-risen  b«.i  Ii»  ItS  passage  across  the 
licavcns.  The  middle  distance  of  the  landscape  was  composed 
of  two  wood-crowned  hills  which  stood  before  me  like  a  pair  of 
loving  brothers,  and  then  came  a  luxuriant  meadow,  where  a 
noble  horse  was  quietly  cropping  his  food ;  while  the  immediate 
foreground  of  the  picture  consisted  of  a  marvellously  beautiful 
stream,  which  glided  swiftly  by,  over  a  bed  of  golden  and  scar- 
let pebbles.  The  only  sounds  that  fell  upon  my  ear,  as  I  gazed 
upon  this  scene,  were  the  murmurings  of  a  distant  water-fall, 
\nd  the-  hum  of  insect  wings. 

The  other  prospect  that  I  witnessed  was  from  the  summit  of 
the  Blue  Ridge,  looking  in  the  direction  of  the  Catawba.  It 
was  a  wilderness  of  mountains,  whoso  foundations  .gjuM  not  be 
fathomed  by  the  eye,  while  in  the  distance,  towering  above  all 
the  peaks,  rose  the  singular  and  fantastic  form  of  the  Table 
Mountain.  Not  a  sign  of  the  breathing  human  world  could  be 
seen  in  any  direction,  and  the  only  living  creature  which  ap- 
peared to  my  view  was  a  solitary  eagle,  wheeling  to  and  fro  far 
up  towards  the  zenith  of  tho  sky. 

From  the  top  of  the  Blue  Ridge  I  descended  a  winding  ra- 
vine four  miles  in  length,  whore  the  road,  even  at  mid-day,  is 
in  a  deep  shadow,  and  then  I  emerged  into  the  North  Cove. 
This  charming  valley  is  twelve  miles  long,  from  a  half  to  a 
whole  mile  in  width,  completely  surrounded  with  mountains, 


iH 


*'■  'il.  '  "-li 


■v,.  ■ 

.„   .,:;  f. 


iMl<«i| 


'"N  !v 


0 

% 

a--' 

4-- 

■  ■ '  s  •■Z.A 

I — -— ~sa 


'■■•'?■■  lit:' 

-' /mi] 


448 


THE  .CATAWBA  COUNTRY. 


highly  cultivated,  watered  by  the  Catawba,  and  inhabited  by 
intelligent  and  worthy  farmers.  At  a  certain  house  where  I 
tarried  to  dine  on  my  way  up  the  valley,  I  was  treated  in  a 
manner  that  would  have  put  to  the  blush  people  of  far  greater 
pretentions ;  and  what  made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind, 
was  the  fact  that  I  was  waited  upon  by  two  sisters,  about  ten 
years  of  age,  who  were  remarkably  beautiful  and  sprightly. 
One  of  them  had  flaxen  hair  and  blue  eyes,  and  the  other  deep 
black  hair  and  eyes.  Familiar  as  I  had  been  for  weeks  past 
with  the  puny  and  ungainly  inhabitants  of  the  mountain  tops, 
these  two  human  flowers  filled  my  heart  with  a  delightful  sen- 
sation. May  the  lives  of  those  two  darlings  be  as  peaceful  and 
beautiful  as  the  stream  upon  which  they  live  !  The  prominent 
pictorial  feature  of  the  North  Cove  is  of  a  mountain  called  the 
Hawk* 8  Bill,  on  account  of  its  resemblance  to  the  beak  of  a  mam- 
moth bird,  the  length  of  the  bill  being  about  fifteen  hundred  feet. 
It  is  visible  from  every  part  of  the  valley,  and  to  my  fancy  is 
a  more  picturesque  object  than  the  Table  Mountain,  which  is 
too  regular  at  the  sides  and  top  to  satisfy  the  eye.  The  table 
part  of  this  mountain,  however,  is  twenty-five  hundred  feet 
high,  and  therefore  worthy  of  its  fame. 

The  cabin  where  I  am  stopping  at  the  present  time  is  located 
at  the  extreme  upper  end  of  the  North  Cove.  It  is  the  resi- 
dence of  the  best  guide  in  the  country,  and  the  most  convenient 
lodging  place  for  those  who  would  visit  the  Hawk's  Bill  and 
Table  Mountains,  already  mentioned,  as  well  as  the  Lindville 
Pinnacle,  the  Catawba  Cave,  the  Cake  Mountain,  the  Lindville 
Falls,  and  the  Roan  Mountain. 

The  Lindville  Pinnacle  is  a  mountain  peak,  surmounted  by 
a  pile  of  rocks,  upon  which  you  may  recline  at  your  ease,  and 
look  down  upon  a  complete  series  of  rare  and  gorgeous  scenes. 
On  one  side  is  a  precipice  which  seems  to  descend  to  the  very 
bowels  of  the  earth ;  in  another  direction  you  have  a  full  view 
of  Short-off  Mountain,  only  about  a  mile  oif,  which  is  a  per- 
pendicular precipice  several  thousand  feet  high,  and  the  abrupt 
termination  of  a  long  range  of  mountains ;  in  another  direc- 
tion still  the  eye  falls  upon  a  brotherhood  of  mountain  peaks 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNTBY. 


449 


which  are  particularly  ragged  and  fantastic  in  their  formation 
— now  shooting  forward,  as  if  to  look  down  into  the  valleys, 
and  now  looming  to  the  sky,  as  if  to  pierce  it  with  their  pointed 
summits ;  and  in  another  direction  you  look  across  what  seems 
to  be  a  valley  from  eighty  to  a  hundred  miles  wide,  which  is 
bounded  by  a  range  of  mountains  that  seem  to  sweep  across  the 
world  as  with  triumphal  march. 

The  Catawba  Cave,  situated  on  the  Catawba  river,  is  entered 
by  a  fissure  near  the  base  of  a  mountain,  and  is  reputed  to  be 
one  mile  in  length.  -  It  has  a  great  variety  of  chambers,  which 
vary  in  height  from  six  to  twenty  feet ;  its  walls  are  chiefly 
composed  of  a  porous  limestone,  through  which  the  water  is 
continually  dripping ;  and  along  the  entire  length  flows  a  cold 
and  clear  stream,  which  varies  from  five  to  fifteen  inches  in 
depth.  The  cave  is  indeed  a  curious  affair,  though  the  trouble 
and  fatigue  attending  a  thorough  explorntion  far  outweigh  the 
satisfaction  which  it  affords.  But  there  is  one  arm  of  the  cave 
which  has  never  been  explored,  and  an  admirable  opportunity 
is  therefore  offiered  for  the  adventurous  to  make  themselves  fa- 
mous by  revealing  some  of  the  hidden  wonders  of  nature. 

The  Q-inger  Cake  Mountain  derives  its  very  poetical  name 
from  a  singular  pile  of  rocks  occupying  its  extreme  summit. 
The  pile  is  composed  of  two  masses  of  rock  of  different  mate- 
rials and  form,  which  are  so  arranged  as  to  stand  on  a  remark- 
ably small  base.  The  lower  section  is  composed  of  a  rough 
slate  stone,  and  its  form  is  that  of  an  inverted  pyramid ;  but 
the  upper  section  of  the  pile  consists  of  an  oblong  slab  of  solid 
granite,  which  surmounts  the  lower  section  in  a  horizontil  po- 
sition, presenting  the  appearance  of  a  work  of  art.  The  lower 
section  is  thirty  feet  in  altitude,  while  the  upper  one  is  thirty- 
two  feet  in  length,  eighteen  in  breadth,  and  nearly  two  feet  in 
thickness.  The  appearance  of  this  rocky  wonder  is  exceed- 
ingly tottering,  and  though  we  may  be  assured  that  it  has  stood 
upon  that  eminence  perhaps  for  a  thousand  years,  yet  it  is  im- 
possible to  tarry  within  its  shadow  without  a  feeling  of  inse- 
curity. The  individual  who  gave  the  Ginger  Cake  Mountain 
its  outlandish  name  was  a  hermit  named  Watson,  who  resided 
29 


vmu 


^ft'il 


i 

*!<.« 


450 


TBE  CATAWBA  COUNDRT. 


at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  about  fifty  years  ago,  but  who  died 
in  1816.  He  lived  in  a  small  cabin,  and  entirely  alone.  His 
history  was  a  mystery  to  every  one  but  himself,  and,  though 
remarkably  eccentric  ho  was  noted  for  his  amiability.  He  had 
given  up  the  world,  like  his  brother  hermit  of  the  Bald  Morn- 
tain,  on  account  of  a  disappointment  in  love,  and  the  utter 
contempt  which  he  ever  afterwards  manifested  for  the  gentler 
sex,  was  one  of  his  most  singular  traits  of  character.  When- 
ever a  party  of  ladies  paid  him  a  visit,  which  was  frequently 
the  case,  he  invariably  treated  them  politely,  but  would  never 
apeak  to  them;  he  even  went  so  far  in  expressing  his  dislike  as 
to  consume  for  firewood,  after  the  ladies  were  gone,  the  top- 
most rail  of  his  yard-fence,  over  which  they  had  been  compelled 
to  pass,  on  their  way  into  his  cabin.  That  old  Watson  "  fared 
sumptuously  every  day"  could  not  be  denied,  but  whence  came 
the  money  that  supported  him  no  one  could  divine.  He  sel- 
dom molested  the  wild  animals  of  the  mountain  where  he  lived, 
and  his  chief  employments  seemed  to  be  the  raising  of  pea- 
cocks, and  the  making  of  garments  for  his  own  use,  which  were 
all  elegantly  trimmed  off  with  the  feathers  of  his  favorite  bird. 
The  feathery  suit  in  which  he  kept  himself  constantly  arrayed 
he  designated  as  his  culgee;  the  meaning  of  which  word  could 
never  be  ascertained ;  and  long  after  the  deluded  being  had 
passed  away  from  among  the  living,  he  was  spoken  of  as  Culgee 
Watson,  and  is  so  remembered  to  this  day. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  the  Lindville  Falls,  which  are  situa- 
ted on  the  Lindville  river,  a  tributary  of  the  beautiful  Catawba. 
They  are  literally  embosomed  among  mountains,  and  long  be- 
fore seeing  them  do  you  hear  their  musical  roar.  The  scenery 
about  them  is  as  wild  as  it  was  a  hundred  years  ago^not  even 
a  pathway  has  yet  been  made  to  guide  the  tourist  into  the  stu- 
pendous gorge  where  they  reign  supreme.  At  the  point  in 
question  the  Lindville  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
broad,  and  though  its  waters  have  come  down  their  parent 
mountains  at  a  most  furious  speed,  they  here  make  a  more  desper- 
ate plunge  than  they  ever  dared  to  attempt  before,  when  they  find 
themselves  in  a  deep  pool  and  suddenly  hemmed  in  by  a  barrier 


'^:'% 


M 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNTRY. 


451 


of  gray  granite,  which  crosses  the  entire  hed  of  the  river.  In 
their  desperation,  however,  they  Cually  work  a  passage  through 
the  solid  rock,  and  after  filling  another  hollow  with  foam,  they 
make  a  desperate  leap  of  at  least  one  hundred  feet,  and  find  a 
renjting  place  in  an  immense  pool,  which  one  might  easily  ima- 
gine to  be  bottomless.  And  then,  as  if  attracted  by  the  aston- 
ishing feats  performed  by  the  waters,  a  number  of  lofty  and 
exceedingly  fantastic  cliffs  have  gathered  themselves  together 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  and  are  ever  peering  over  each 
other's  shoulders  into  the  depths  below.  But  as  the  eye  wan- 
ders from  the  surrounding  cliffs,  it  falls  upon  an  isolated  col- 
umn several  hundred  feet  high,  around  which  are  clustered  in 
the  greatest  profusion  the  most  beautiful  of  vines  and  flowers. 
This  column  occupies  a  conspicuous  position  a  short  distance 
below  the  Falls,  and  it  were  an  easy  matter  to  imagine  it  a 
monument  erected  by  Nature  to  celebrate  her  own  creative 
power. 

With  a  liberal  hand,  indeed,  has  she  planted  her  forest  trees 
in  every  imaginable  place ;  but  with  a  view  of  even  surpassing 
herself,  she  has  filled  the  gorge  with  a  variety  of  caverns,  which 
astonish  the  beholder,  and  almost  cause  him  to  dread  an  attack 
from  a  brotherhood  of  spirits.  But  how  futile  is  my  effort  to 
give  an  adequate  idea  of  the  Lindville  Falls  and  their  sur- 
rounding attractions !  When  I  attempted  to  sketch  them  I 
threw  away  my  pencil  in  despair ;  and  I  now  feel  that  I  should 
be  doing  my  pen  a  kindness,  if  I  were  to  consume  what  I 
have  written.  I  will  give  this  paragraph  to  the  world,  how- 
ever, trusting  that  those  who  may  hereafter  visit  the  Lindville 
Falls,  will  award  to  me  a  little  credit  for  my  will  if  not  for  my 
deed. 

To  be  in  keeping  with  my  wayward  wanderings  in  this  Alpine 
wilderness,  it  now  becomes  my  duty  to  speak  of  the  Hoan 
Mountain  and  the  Grand  Father.  By  actual  measurement 
the  former  is  only  seventy  feet  lower  than  the  Black  Mountain, 
and  consequently  measures  well  nigh  to  seven  thousand  feet. 
It  derives  its  name  from  the  circumstance  that  it  is  often  cover- 
ed with  snow,  and  at  such  times  is  of  a  roan  color.     It  lies  in 


Si 


='%y 


fM»|| 


<      Jim         I 

iff 


452 


THB  CATAWBA  COUNTHT. 


the  States  of  North  Carolina  and  Tennessee,  and  has  three 
prominent  peaks,  which  are  all  entirely  destitute  of  trees.  The 
highest  of  them  has  a  clearing  containing  several  thonsand 
acres,  and  the  cattle  and  horses  of  the  surrounding  farmers 
resort  to  it  in  immense  numbers,  for  the  purpose  of  feeding 
upon  the  fine  and  luxuriant  grass  which  grows  there  in  great 
abundance.  The  ascent  to  the  top  of  this  peak  is  gradual  from 
all  directions  except  one ;  but  on  the  north  it  is  quite  perpendi- 
cular, and  to  one  standing  near  the  brow  of  the  mighty  cliff 
the  scene  is  exceedingly  imposing  and  fearful.  That  it  com- 
mands an  uninterrupted  view  of  what  appears  to  be  the  entire 
world,  may  be  readily  imagined.  When  I  was  there  I  observed 
no  less  than  three  thunder  storms  performing  their  uproarious 
feats  in  three  several  valleys,  while  the  remaining  portions  of 
the  lower  world  were  enjoying  a  deep  blue  atmosphere.  In 
visiting  Roan  Mountain  you  have  to  travel  on  horseback,  and, 
by  starting  at  the  break  of  day,  you  may  spend  two  hours  on 
the  highest  peak,  and  be  home  again  on  the  same  evening  about 
the  sunset  hour. 

In  accounting  for  the  baldness  which  characterizes  the  Roan 
Mountain,  the  Catawba  Indians  relate  the  following  tradition : 
There  was  once  a  time  when  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  were 
at  war  with  the  Catawbas,  and  had  proclaimed  their  determina- 
tion to  conquer  and  possess  their  country.  On  hearing  this 
intelligence  the  Catawbas  became  greatly  enraged,  and  sent  a 
challenge  to  all  their  enemies,  and  dared  them  to  a  fight  on  the 
«ummit  of  the  Roan.  The  challenge  was  accepted,  and  no  less 
than  three  famous  battles  were  fought — ^the  streams  of  the  en- 
tire land  were  red  with  blood,  a  number  of  tribes  became  ex- 
tinct, and  the  Catawbas  carried  the  day.  Whereupon  it  was 
that  the  Great  Spirit  caused  the  forests  to  wither  from  the  three 
peaks  of  the  Roan  Mountain  where  the  battles  were  fought ; 
and  wherefore  it  is  that  the  flowers  which  grow  upon  this  moun- 
tain are  chiefly  of  a  crimson  hue,  for  they  are  nourished  by  the 
blood  of  the  slain. 

One  of  the  finest  views  from  the  Roan  Mountain  is  that  of 
the  Grand  Father,  which  is  said  to  be  altogether  the  wildest 


^^■*;3i 


THB  CATAWBA  COUNTBT. 


45S 


and  most  fantastic  mountain  in  the  whole  AUeghanj  range.  It 
is  reputed  to  he  5,600  feet  high,  and  particularly  famous  for 
its  hlack  bears  and  other  large  game.  Its  principal  human  in- 
habitants, par  excellence,  for  the  last  twenty  years,  have  been 
a  man  named  Jim  Riddle,  and  his  loving  spouse,  whose  cabin 
was  near  its  summit.  A  more  successful  hunter  than  Jim 
never  scaled  a  precipice ;  and  th^  stories  related  of  him  would 
fill  a  volume.  One  of  them  that  I  now  remember,  is  briefly  as 
follows : — 

He  was  out  upon  a  hunting  expedition,  and  having  come  to 
one  of  his  bear  traps,  (made  of  logs,  weighing  about  a  thousand 
poimds,  and  set  with  a  kind  of  figure  four,)  the  bait  of  which 
happened  to  be  misplaced,  he  thoughtlessly  laid  down  his  gun, 
and  went  under  the  trap  to  arrange  the  bait.  In  doing  this, 
he  handled  the  bait  hook  a  little  too  roughly,  and  was  conse- 
quently caught  in  the  place  of  a  bear.  He  chanced  to  have  a 
small  hatchet  in  his  belt,  with  which,  under  every  disadvantage, 
he  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way  out.  He  was  one  day  and  one 
night  in  doing  this,  however,  and  his  narrow  escape  caused  him 
to  abandon  the  habit  of  swearing,  and  become  a  religious  man. 

To  the  comprehension  of  Jim  Riddle,  the  Grand  Father  was 
the  highest  mountain  in  the  world.  He  used  to  say  that  he  had 
read  of  the  Andes,  but  did  not  believe  that  they  were  half  as 
high  as  the  mountain  on  which  he  lived.  His  reason  for  this 
opinion  was,  that  when  a  man  stood  on  the  top  of  the  Grand 
Father,  it  was  perfectly  obvious  that  *'  all  the  other  mountaiiM 
in  the  world  lay  rolling  from  it,  even  to  the  sky." 

Jim  Riddle  is  said  to  have  been  a  remarkably  certain  marks- 
man ;  and  one  of  his  favorite  pastimes,  in  the  winter,  was  to 
shoot  at  snow-balls.  On  these  occasions,  his  loving  wife, 
Betsey,  was  always  by  his  side,  to  laugh  at  him  when  he  missed 
his  mark,  and  to  applaud  when  successful.  And  it  is  reported 
of  them,  that  they  were  sometimes  in  the  habit  of  spending 
entire  days  in  this  elevated  recreation.  But  enough ;  Jim  Riddle 
is  now  an  altered  man.  His  cabin  has  long  since  been  abandoned, 
and  he  has  become  a  travelling  preacher,  and  is  universally 
respected  for  his  amiability,  and  matter-of-fact  intelligence. 


-'^J 


'<r 


1". 


li*"' 


:r--!sa 


./^l 


■^■-.,.1 


^m 


464 


THE  CATAWBA  COUNTRY. 


In  a  valley  lying  between  the  Roan  and  Grand  Father  moun- 
tains, I  first  heard  the  Mocking  Bird  singing  at  night.  He 
awakened  me  out  of  a  deep  sleep,  while  perched  upon  a  tree 
overhanging  the  cabin  where  I  was  spending  the  night.  His 
lower  notes  were  sweeter  than  any  instrument  I  ever  heard, 
but  inexpressibly  mournful,  and  as  unlike  the  singing  of  a  caged 
bird  as  possible.  I  was  tol^  that  they  were  found  in  great 
numbers  among  the  Alleghanies,  and  that  when  the  hunters 
hear  them  sing  at  night,  they  know  that  the  moon  is  about  to 
rise,  and  therefore  prepare  for  their  nocturnal  expeditions  after 
game.  This  charming  bird  is  universally  beloved  by  the  inha- 
bitants of  this  region,  and  I  never  see  it  in  ils  native  wood, 
without  being  reminded  of  that  most  gifted  of  human  minstrels, 
who  penned  the  words,  so  appropriate  to  the  Mocking  Bird, — 
"  Hope  of  the  wilderness— joy  of  the  free." 


THE   MOUNTAINS   AND    THEIR   PEOPLE. 


i    ■'] 


The  prominent  circumstance  attending  my  journey  from  the 
North  Gove  to  Elizabethton,  in  Tennessee,  was,  that  it  took  me 
out  of  the  great  mountain  wilderness  of  Georgia  and  North 
Carolina  into  a  well-cultivated  and  more  level  country.  For 
two  months  past  have  I  spent  my  days  on  horseback,  and  the 
majority  of  my  nights  in  the  rudest  of  cabins ;  and  as  I  am  now 
to  continue  my  journey  in  a  stage-coach,  it  is  meet  that  I  should 
indite  a  general  letter,  descriptive  of  the  region  through  which 
I  have  passed.  In  coming  from  Dahlonega  to  this  place,  I  have 
travelled  in  a  zig-zag  course  upwards  of  four  hundred  miles,  but 
the  intervening  distance,  in  a  direct  line,  would  not  measure 
more  than  two  hundred.  The  entire  country  is  mountainous, 
and  for  the  most  part  remains  in  its  original  state  of  nature. 
To  the  botanist  and  geologist,  this  section  of  the  Union  is  un- 
questionably the  most  interesting  eastward  of  the  Mississippi, 
for  we  have  here  nearly  every  variety  of  forest  trees  known  in 
the  land,  as  well  as  plants  and  flowers  in  the  greatest  abun- 
dance, while  the  mountains,  which  are  of  a  primitive  formation, 
abound  in  every  known  variety  of  minerals.  That  the  scenery 
of  this  region  is  highly  interesting,  I  hope  my  readers  have 
already  been  convinced.  More  beautiful  streams  can  nowhere 
be  found  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  But  when  we  come  to  speak 
of  lake  scenery,  the  South  must  yield  the  palm  to  the  North. 
Not  a  single  sheet  of  water  deserving  the  name  of  lake  have  I 
yet  seen  in  this  Southern  land,  and  yet  every  mountain  seems 
to  be  well  supplied  with  the  largest  and  coldest  of  springs.  I 
^now  not  but  this  fact  has  been  explained  by  our  scientific  men, 
out  to  me  it  is  indeed  a  striking  peculiarity.     The  valleys,  too. 


-•%i, 


(1 


456 


THK  MOUNTAINS  AND  THEIR  PEOPLE. 


of  tbis  region,  are  remarkably  narrow,  and  the  majority  of  them 
might  with  more  propriety  be  called  immense  ravines.  The 
skies,  however,  which  canopy  this  Alpine  land,  appeared  to  me 
to  be  particularly  blue,  and  as  to  the  clouds  which  gather 
around  the  mountains  at  the  sunset  hour,  they  are  gorgeous 
beyond  compare.  ■■  -- %  j.  tj. 

With  regard  to  climate,  I  know  of  no  section  of  country  that 
can  be  compared  with  the  highlands  of  Georgia  and  North 
Carolina.  It  is  but  seldom  that  a  foot  of  snow  covers  the  earth 
even  in  the  severest  winters ;  and,  though  the  days  of  midsummer 
are  very  warm,  they  are  seldom  sultry,  and  the  nights  are  invari- 
ably su£Sciently  cool  to  make  one  or  two  blankets  comfortable. 
Fevers  and  other  diseases,  peculiar  to  the  sea-side  of  the  AUe- 
ghanies,  are  hardly  known  among  their  inhabitants,  and  hereto- 
fore the  majority  of  the  people  have  died  of  old  age.  I  would 
not  intimate  that  they  are  afflicted  with  an  epidemic  at  the 
present  time,  but  I  do  say  there  are  many  household?  in  this 
region,  which  have  been  rendered  very  desolate  by  the  Mexican 
war.  When  our  kingly  President  commanded  the  American 
people  to  leave  the  plough  in  the  furrow  and  invade  a  neigh- 
boring republic,  the  mountaineers  of  Georgia  and  the  Carolinas 
poured  down  into  the  valley  almost  without  bidding  their  mo- 
thers and  wives  and  sisters  a  final  adieu ;  and  the  bones  of  at 
least  one  half  of  these  brave  men  are  now  mouldering  away  on 
the  desert  sands  of  the  far  South. 

Generally  speaking,  the  soil  of  this  country  is  fertile,  yield- 
ing the  best  of  corn,  potatoes,  and  rye,  but  only  an  average 
quality  of  wheat,  on  account  of  the  late  frosts.  In  some  of  the 
more  extensive  valleys,  the  apple  and  the  peach  arrive  at  per- 
fection ;  and  while  the  former  are  manufactured  into  cider,  out 
of  the  latter  the  mountaineers  make  a  very  palatable  brandy. 
The  principle  revenue  of  the  people,  however,  is  derived  from 
the  business  of  raising  cattle,  which  is  practised  to  a  consider- 
able extents  The  mountain  ranges  afford  an  abundance  of  the 
sweetest  grazing  food,  and  all  that  the  farmer  has  to  do  in  the 
autumn  is  to  hunt  up  his  stock,  which  have  now  become  exces- 
sively fat,  and  di">e  them  to  the  Charleston  or  Baltimore  mar- 


THE  MOUNTAIKS  AND  THEIR  PEOPLE. 


467 


ket.  The  onlj  drawback  to  this  business  consists  in  the  fact 
that  the  cattle  in  certain  sections  of  the  country  are  subject  to 
vrhat  is  called  the  milk  sickness.  This  disease  is  supposed  to 
be  caused  by  a  poisonous  dew  which  gathers  on  the  grass,  and 
is  said  not  only  to  have  destroyed  a  great  many  cattle  in  other 
years,  but  frequently  caused  the  death  of  entire  families  who 
may  have  partaken  of  the  unwholesome  milk.  It  is  a  dreaded 
disease,  and  principally  fatal  in  the  autumn.  From  the  fore* 
going  remarks  it  will  be  seen  that  a  mountain  farmer  may  be 
an  agriculturist,  and  yet  have  an  abundance  of  time  to  follow 
any  other  employment  that  he  has  a  passion  for ;  and  the  re- 
sult of  this  fact  is,  that  he  is  generally  a  faithful  disciple  of  the 
immortal  Nimrod. 

All  the  cabins  that  I  have  visited  have  been  ornamented  by 
at  least  one  gun,  and  more  than  one-half  of  the  inhabitants 
have  usually  been  hounds.  That  the  mountaineers  are  poor,  is 
a  matter  of  course,  and  the  majority  of  their  cabins  are  cheer- 
less places  indeed  to  harbor  the  human  frame  for  life ;  but  the 
people  are  distinguished  for  their  hospitality,  and  always  place 
before  the  stranger  the  choicest  of  their  store.  Bacon,  game, 
and  milk  are  their  staple  articles  of  food,  and  honey  is  their 
principal  luxury.  In  religion,  generally  speaking,  they  are 
Methodists  and  Baptists,  and  are  distinguished  for  their  sobriety. 
They  have  but  few  opportunities  of  hearing  good  preaching, 
but  I  have  never  entered  more  than  three  or  four  cabins  where 
I  did  not  see  a  copy  of  the  Bible.  The  limited  knowledge  they 
possess  has  come  to  them  directly  from  Heaven  as  it  were,  and, 
from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  their  children  are  growing  up 
in  the  most  deplorable  ignorance.  Whenever  one  of  these  poor 
families  happened  to  learn  from  my  conversation  that  I  y«-  a 
resident  of  New  York,  the  interest  with  which  they  gazed  upon 
me,  and  listened  to  my  every  word,  was  both  agreeable  and 
painful.  It  made  me  happy  to  communicate  what  little  I  hap- 
pened to  know,  but  pained  me  to  think  upon  their  isolated  and 
uncultivated  manner  of  life.  Give  me  the  wilderness  for  a  day 
or  month,  but  for  life  I  must  be  amid  the  haunts  of  refinement 
and  civilization.    As  to  the  slave  population  of  the  mountain 


^^x; 


iii'N 


KKd, 


"'%i, 

^*l; 


tt,J 


»itt 


458 


THB  MOUNTAINS  AND  THBIB  PEOPLK. 


fr*.." 


-cm 


districts,  it  is  so  limited  that  I  can  hardly  express  an  opinion 
vrith  regard  to  their  condition.  Not  more  than  one  white  man 
in  ten  (perhaps  I  ought  to  say  twenty)  is  sufficiently  wealthy  to 
support  a  slave,  and  those  who  do  possess  them  are  in  the  habit 
of  treating  them  as  intelligent  beings,  and  in  the  most  kindly 
manner.  As  I  have  found  it  to  be  the  case  on  the  seaboard, 
the  slaves  residing  among  the  mountains  are  the  happiest  and 
most  independent  portion  of  the  population ;  and  I  have  had 
many  a  one  pilot  me  over  the  mountains  who  would  not  have 
exchanged  places  even  with  his  master.  They  have  a  comfort- 
able house  and  no  debts  to  pay :  every  thing  they  need  in  the 
way  of  clothing  and  wholesome  food  is  ever  at  their  command, 
and  they  have  free  access  to  the  churches  and  the  Sunday 
schools  of  the  land.  What  more  do  the  poor  of  any  country 
possess  that  can  add  to  their  temporal  happiness  ? 

Another,  and  of  course  the  most  limited  portion  of  the  popu- 
lation occupying  this  mountain  country,  is  what  might  be  called 
the  aristocracy  or  gentry.  Generally  speaking,  they  are  de- 
scended from  the  best  families,  and  moderately  wealthy.  They 
are  fond  of  good  living,  and  their  chief  business  is  to  make 
themselves  as  comfortable  as  possible.  They  esteem  solid  en- 
joyment more  than  display,  and  are  far  more  intelligent  (so  far 
as  books  and  the  world  are  concerned)  than  the  same  class  of 
people  at  the  North.  The  majority  of  Southern  gentlemen,  I 
believe,  would  be  glad  to  see  the  institution  of  slavery  abolished, 
if  it  could  be  brought  about  without  reducing  them  to  beggary. 
But  they  hate  a  political  Abolitionist  as  they  do  the  very — 
Father  of  Lies;  and  for  this  want  of  affection  I  dq  not  see 
that  they  deserve  to  be  blamed.  The  height  of  a  Southern 
man's  ambition  is  to  be  a  gentleman  in  every  particular — in 
word,  thought,  and  deed ;  and  to  be  a  perfect  gentleman,  in 
my  opinion,  is  to  be  a  Christian.  And  with  regard  to  the 
much-talked -of  hospitality  of  the  wealthier  classes  in  the  South, 
I  can  only  say  that  my  own  experience  ought  to  make  me  very 
eloquent  in  their  praise.  Not  only  does  the  genuine  feeling 
exist  here,  but  a  Southern  gentleman  gives  such  expression  to 
his  feeling  by  his  home-like  treatment  of  you,  that  to  be  truly 


m 


THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THEIR  PEOPLE. 


469 


hospitable  you  might  imagine  had  been  the  principal  study  of 
his  life. 

But  the  music  of  the  "  mellow  born"  is  ringing  in  my  ear^ 
and  in  an  hour  from  this  time  I  shall  have  thrown  myself  into 
a  stage-coach,  and  be  on  my  way  up  the  long  and  broad  valley 
of  Virginia. 


■■•■"  «>** 


1^- 


if 


f 


iryt^l 


l::iz 


':;,>*« 
U""^ 


THE  NAMELESS  VALLEY. 


■■/  'I 


iO 


Since  my  last  letter  was  written,  my  course  of  travel  has 
led  me  towards  the  fountain-head  of  the  Holston  river,  whose 
broad  and  highly  cultivated  valley  is  bounded  on  the  northwest 
by  the  Clinch  Mountains,  and  on  the  southeast  by  the  Iron 
Mountains.  The  agricultural  and  mineral  advantages  of  the 
valley  are  manifold,  and  the  towns  and  farms  scattered  along 
the  stage-road  all  present  a  thriving  and  agreeable  appearance. 
Along  the  bod  of  the  Holston,  agates  and  cornelians  are  found 
in  considerable  abundance ;  and  though  the  scenery  of  its 
valley  is  merely  beautiful,  I  know  of  no  district  in  the  world 
where  caves  and  caverns  are  found  in  such  great  numbers.  A 
zigzag  tour  along  this  valley  alone  will  take  the  traveller  to  at 
least  one  dozen  caves,  many  of  which  are  said  to  be  remark- 
ably interesting.  From  my  own  observation,  however,  I  know 
nothing  about  them  ;  and  so  long  as  I  retain  my  passion  for 
the  revealed  productions  of  nature,  I  will  leave  the  hidden  ones 
to  take  care  of  themselves. 

On  reaching  the  pleasant  little  village  of  Abingdon,  in  Wash- 
ington county,  a  friend  informed  me  that  I  must  not  fail  to 
visit  the  salt-works  of  Smythe  county.  I  did  so,  and  the  fol- 
lowing is  my  account  of  Saltville,  which  is  the  proper  name  for 
the  place  in  question :  Its  site  was  originally  a  salt-lick,  tr* 
which  immense  herds  of  elk,  buffalo,  and  deer,  were  in  the 
habit  of  resorting  ;  subsequently,  the  Indians  applied  the  pri- 
vilege to  themselves,  and  then  an  occasional  hunter  came  here 
for  his  supplies  ;  but  the  regular  business  of  transforming  the 
water  into  salt  did  not  commence  until  the  year  1790.    Salt- 


THB  NAMELESS  VALLET. 


461 


ville  is  located  at  the  head  of  a  valley  near  the  base  of  the 
Clinch  Mountains,  and  about  one  mile  from  the  Holston  river. 
All  the  population  of  the  place,  numbering  perhaps  three  hun> 
dred  inhabitants,  are  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  salt.    The 
water  here  is  said  to  be  the  strongest  and  purest  in  the  world. 
When  tested  by  a  salometer,  graded  for  saturation  at  twenty- 
five  degrees,  it  ranges  from  twenty  to  twenty-two  degrees,  and 
twenty  gallons  of  water  will  yield  one  bushol  of  salt,  which 
weighs  fifty  pounds,  (and  not  fifty-six  as  at  the  North,)  and  is 
sold  at  the  rate  of  twenty  cents  per  bushel,  or  one  dollar  and 
twenty  cents  per  barrel.     The  water  is  brought  from  a  depth 
of  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  by  means  of  three  artesian 
wells,  which  keep  five  furnaces  or  salt-blockf,  of  eighty-four 
kettles  each,  in  constant  employment,  and  produce  about  two 
thousand  bushels  per  day.     The  water  is  raised  by  means  of 
horse-power,  and  twenty-five  teams  are  constantly  employed  in 
supplying  the  furnaces  with  wood.     The  salt  manufactured 
here  is  acknowledged  to  be  superior  in  quality  to  that  made  on 
the  Kanawha,  in  this  State,  or  at  Syracuse,  in  New  York,  but 
the  Northern  establishments  are  by  far  the  most  extensive. 
The  section  of  country  supplied  from  this  quarter  is  chiefly 
Tennessee  and  Alabama ;   generally  speaking,  there  is  but 
one  shipment  made  during  the  year,  which  is  in  the  spring, 
and  by  means  of  flat-boats  built  expressly  for  the  purpose. 
A  dozen  or  two  of  these  boats  are  always  ready  for  business, 
and  when  the  Holston  is  swollen  by  a  freshet  they  are  loaded 
and  manned  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  and  away  the 
singing  boatmen    go  down  the   wild,  winding,  and  narrow, 
but  picturesque   stream,  to  their  desired  havens.     The  sec- 
tion of  country  supplied  by  the   Kanawha  is   the  northwest 
and  the  extreme  south,  while  Syracuse,  Liverpool,  and  Turk's 
Island  supply  the  Atlantic  seaboard.     The  Saltvillo  reservoir 
.of  water  seems  to  be  inexhaustible,  and  it  is  supposed  would 
give  active  employment  to  at  least  a  dozen  new  furnaces.     As 
already  stated,  the  yielding  wells  are  somewhat  over  two  hun- 
dred feet  deep ;  but  within  a  stone's  throw  of  these,  other  wells 
have  been  sunk  to  the  depth  of  four,  five,  and  six  hundred  feet. 


:«*, 

,;i^«'' 


-"%i5j 


:     nil 


462 


THE  NAMELESS  VALLEY. 


\rithout  obtaining  a  particle  of  the  valuable  liquid.  The  busi- 
ness of  Saltville  is  carried  on  by  private  enterprise  altogether, 
and  the  principal  proprietor  and  director  is  a  gentleman  who 
comes  from  that  noble  stock  which  has  given  to  this  country 
such  men  as  Patrick  Henry  and  William  H.  Preston.  I  am 
at  present  the  guest  of  this  gentleman,  and  therefore  refrain 
from  giving  his  name  to  the  public ;  but  as  his  plantation  is 
decidedly  the  most  beautiful  that  I  have  seen  in  the  whole 
Southern  country,  I  must  be  permitted  to  give  a  particular  de- 
scription for  the  edification  of  my  readers. 

This  heretofore  nameless  nook  of  the  great  world  I  have 
been  permitted  to  designate  as  The  Nameless  Valley,  and  if 
I  succeed  in  merely  enumerating  its  charming  features  and 
associations,  I  feel  confident  that  my  letter  will  be  read  with 
pleasure.  It  is  the  centre  of  a  domain  comprising  eight  thou- 
sand acres  of  land,  which  covers  a  multitude  of  hills  that  are 
all  thrown  in  shadow  at  the  sunset  hour  by  the  Clinch  moun- 
tains. The  valley  in  question  is  one  mile  by  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  wide,  and  comprises  exactly  three  hundred  and  thirty- 
three  acres  of  green  meadow  land,  unbroken  by  a  single  fence, 
but  ornamented  by  about  a  dozen  isolated  trees,  composed  of 
ut  least  half  a  dozen  varieties,  and  the  valley  is  watered  by  a 
tiny  stream  of  the  clearest  water.  It  is  completely  surrounded 
with  cone-like  hills,  which  are  nearly  all  highly  cultivated  half 
way  up  their  sides,  but  crowned  with  a  diadem  of  luxuriant 
forest  trees.  A  little  back  of  the  hills,  skirting  the  western 
side  of  the  valley,  are  the  picturesquely  broken  Clinch  Moun- 
tains, whose  every  outline,  and  cliff,  and  fissure,  and  ravine, 
may  be  distinctly  seen  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley, 
where  the  spacious  and  tastefully  porticoed  mansion  of  the 
proprietor  is  located.  Clustering  immediately  around  this 
dwelling,  but  not  so  as  as  to  interrupt  the  view,  are  a  number 
of  very  large  willows,  poplars,  and  elms,  while  the  enclosed 
slope  upon  which  it  stands  is  covered  with  luxuriant  grass,  here 
and  there  enlivened  by  a  stack  of  roses  and  other  flowers.  The 
numerous  out  houses  of  the  plantation  are  a  little  back  of  the 
main  building,  and  consist  of  neatly  painted  cabins,  occupied 


THE  NAMELESS  VALLEY. 


468 


by  the  negroes  belonging  to  the  estate,  and  numbering  about 
one  hundred  souls ;  then  come  the  stables,  where  no  less  than 
seventy-five  horses  are  daily  supplied  with  lood;  then  we  have 
a  pasture  on  the  hill  side,  where  thirty  or  forty  cows  nightly 
congregate  to  be  milked,  and  give  suck  to  their  calves;  and 
then  we  have  a  mammoth  spring,  whose  waters  issue  out  of  the 
mountain,  making  only  about  a  dozen  leaps,  throwing  themselves 
upon  the  huge  wheel  of  an  old  mill,  causing  it  to  sing  a  kind  of 
circling  song  from  earliest  dawn  to  the  twilight  hour.  In  look- 
ing to  the  westward  from  the  spacious  porticoes  of  the  mansion, 
the  eye  falls  upon  only  two  objects  which  are  at  all  calculated 
to  destroy  the  natural  solitude  of  the  place,  viz.,  a  road  which 
passes  directly  by  the  house  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn,  and  one 
small  white  cottage  situated  at  the  base  of  a  hill  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley.  Instead  of  detracting  from  the  scene, 
however,  these  objects  actually  make  it  more  interesting,  when 
the  facts  are  remembered  that  in  that  cottage  did  the  proprietor 
of  this  great  estate  first  see  the  light,  and  that  by  its  side  are 
deposited  the  remains  of  five  generations  of  his  ancestors ;  and 
as  to  the  road,  the  people  wlio  travel  it  all  appear  and  move 
along  ju.at  exactly  as  a  poet  or  painter  would  desire. 

But  to  give  my  readers  a  more  graphic  idea  of  this  truly 
delightful  valley,  I  will  enumerate  the  living  pictures  which 
attracted  my  attention  from  the  book  I  was  attempting  to  read 
on  a  single  afternoon.  I  was  in  a  commanding  corner  of  the 
porch,  and  had  closed  the  volume  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking 
behind  the  mountains,  llie  sky  was  of  a  soft  silvery  hue,  and 
almost  cloudless,  and  the  entire  landscape  was  bathed  in  an 
exquisitely  soft  and  delightful  atmosphere.  Not  a  breeze  was 
stirring  in  the  valley,  and  the  cool  shadows  of  the  trees  were 
twice  as  long  as  the  trees  themselves.  The  first  noise  that 
broke  the  silence  of  the  scene  was  a  slow  thumping  and  creak 
ing  sound  away  down  the  road,  and  on  casting  my  eyes  in  that 
direction  I  discovered  a  large  wain,  or  covered  wagon,  drawn 
by  seven  horses  and  driven  by  a  man  who  amused  himself  o.s 
he  lazily  moved  along,  by  snapping  his  whip  at  the  harmless 
plants  by  the  road-side.    I  know  not  whence  he  came  or  whither 


'* 


i-r'fi-^ij 


464 


THE  NAMELESS  VALLEY. 


V:5 


mm 


he  was  going,  but  twenty  minutes  must  have  flown  before  he 
passed  out  of  my  view.  At  one  dme  a  flood  of  discord  came 
to  my  ear  from  one  of  the  huge  poplars  in  the  yard,  and  I 
could  see  that  there  was  a  terrible  dispute  going  on  between  a 
lot  of  resident  and  stranger  blackbirds;  and,  after  they  had 
ceased  their  noise,  I  could  hear  the  chirping  of  the  swallows,  as 
they  swooped  after  the  insects,  floating  in  the  sunbeams,  far 
away  over  the  green  valley.  And  now  I  heard  a  laugh  and  the 
sound  of  talking  voices,  and  lo !  a  party  of  ten  negroes,  who 
were  returning  from  the  fields  where  they  had  been  cutting  hay 
or  hoeing  corn.  The  neighing  and  stamping  of  a  steed  now 
attracted  my  attention,  and  I  saw  a  superb  blood  horse  attempt- 
ing to  get  away  from  a  negn;  groom,  who  was  leading  him 
along  the  road.  The  mellow  tinkling  of  a  bell  and  the  lowing 
of  cattle  now  came  trembling  on  the  air,  and  presently,  a  herd 
of  cows  made  their  appearance,  returning  home  from  the  far 
off  hills  with  udders  brimming  full,  and  kicking  up  a  dust  as 
they  lounged  along.  Now  the  sun  dropped  behind  the  hills, 
and  one  solitary  night-hawk  shot  high  up  into  the  air,  as  if  he 
had  gone  to  welcome  the  evening  star,  which  presently  made 
its  appearance  from  its  blue  watchtower ;  and,  finally,  a  dozen 
women  came  trooping  from  the  cow-yard  into  the  dairy  house, 
with  well-filled  milk-pails  on  their  heads,  and  looking  like  a 
troop  of  Egyptian  water  damsels.  And  then  for  one  lung  hour 
did  the  spirits  of  repose  and  twilight  have  complete  possession 
of  the  valley,  and  no  sound  fell  upon  my  ear  but  the  hum  of 
insect  wings. 

But  I  was  intending  to  mention  the  curiosities  of  the  Name- 
less Valley.  Foremost  among  these  I  would  rank  a  small  cave, 
on  the  south  side,  in  which  are  deposited  a  curious  collection  of 
human  bones.  Many  of  them  are  very  large,  while  others, 
which  were  evidently  full-grown  are  exceedingly  small.  Among 
the  female  skulls,  I  noticed  one  of  a  female  that  seemed  to  be 
perfectly  beautiful,  but  small  enough  to  have  belonged  to  a 
child.  The  most  curious  specimen,  however,  found  in  this  cave, 
is  the  skull  of  a  man.  It  is  entirely  without  a  forehead,  very 
narrow  across  the  eyes,  full  and  regularly  rounded  behind,  and 


THE  NAMBLBSS  VALLEY. 


465 


from  the  lower  part  of  the  ears  are  two  bony  projections,  nearly 
two  inches  in  length,  which  must  have  presented  a  truly  terri- 
ble appearance  when  covered  with  flesh.  The  animal  organs 
of  this  scull  are  remarkably  full,  and  it  is  also  greatly  deficient 
in  all  the  intellectual  faculties.  Another  curiosity  found  in 
this  valley  is  a  bed  of  plaster  which  lies  in  the  immediate  vici- 
nity of  a  bed  of  slate,  with  li  granite  and  limestone  strata  only 
a  short  distance  off,  the  whole  constituting  a  geological  conglo- 
meration that  I  never  heard  of  before.  But  what  is  still  more 
remarkable  is  the  fact,  that  within  this  plaster  bed  were  found 
the  remains  of  an  unknown  animal,  which  must  have  been  mam- 
moth indeed.  A  grinder  tooth  belonging  to  this  monster  I  have 
seen  and  examined.  It  has  a  blackish  appearance,  measures 
about  ten  inches  in  length,  weighs  about  four  pounds  and  a 
half,  and  was  found  only  three  feet  from  the  surface.  This 
tooth,  as  well  as  the  scull  already  mentioned,  were  discovered 
by  the  proprietor  of  the  valley,  and,  I  am  glad  to  learn,  are 
about  to  be  deposited  by  him  in  the  National  Museum  at  Wash- 
ington. But  another  attractive  feature  in  the  Nameless  Valley 
consists  of  a  kind  of  Indian  Herculaneum,  where,  deeply  im- 
bedded in  sand  and  clay,  are  the  remains  of  a  town,  whence 
have  been  brought  to  light  a  great  variety  of  earthen  vessels 
and  curious  utensils.  Upon  this  spot,  also,  many  shells  have 
been  found,  which  are  said  never  to  have  been  seen  excepting 
on  the  shore  of  the  Pacific.  But  all  these  things  should  be 
described  by  the  antiquarian,  and  I  only  mention  them  for  the 
purpose  of  letting  the  world  know  that  there  is  literally  no  end 
to  the  wonders  of  our  beautiful  land. 

I  did  think  of  sketching  a  few  of  the  many  charming  views 
which  present  themselves  from  the  hills  surrounding  the  Name- 
less Valley,  but  I  am  not  exactly  in  the  mood  just  now,  and  I 
will  leave  them  "in  their  glory  alone."  Connected  with  a  pre- 
cipice on  one  of  them,  however,  I  have  an  incident  to  relate. 
For  an  hour  or  more  had  I  been  watching  the  evolutions  of  a 
bald-headed  eagle  above  the  valley,  when,  to  my  surprise,  he 
suddenly  became  excited,  and  darted  down  with  intense  swift- 
ness towards  the  summit  of  the  cliff  alluded  to,  and  disappeared 
80 


^S 


'..  r 


J,!"' 


1^ 


k 


466. 


THE  NAMELESS  VALLET. 


» 


"■■•'•J 


among  the  trees.  A  piercing  shriek  followed  this  movement, 
and  I  anticipated  a  combat  between  the  eagle  and  a  pair  of  fish- 
hawks  which  I  knew  had  a  nest  upon  the  cliff.  In  less  than 
five  minutes  after  this  assault,  the  eagle  again  made  its  appear- 
ance, but  utteiyd  not  a  sound,  and,  having  flown  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley,  commenced  performing  a  circle,  in  the  most 
graceful  manner  imaginable.  Presently  the  two  hawks  also 
made  their  appearance  high  above  their  rocky  home,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  imitate  the  movements  of  the  eagle.  At  first  the  two 
parties  seemed  to  be  ind'fTerent  to  each  other,  but  on  observing 
them  more  closely  it  was  C'vident  that  they  were  gradually  ap- 
proaching each  other,  and  that  their  several  circles  were  rapidly 
lessening.  On  reaching  an  elevation  of  perhaps  five  thousand 
feet,  they  finally  interfered  with  each  other,  and,  having  joined 
issue,  a  regular  battle  commenced ;  and  as  they  ascended,  the 
screams  of  the  hawks  gradually  became  inaudible,  and  in  a  short 
time  the  three  royal  birds  were  entirely  lost  to  view  in  th« 
blue  zenita. 

Before  closing  this  letter,  I  wish  to  inform  my  readers  of  a 
natural  curiosity  lying  between  the  Clinch  and  Cumberland 
Mountains,  and  distant  from  this  place  only  about  a  day's  jour- 
ney. I  allude  to  what  is  called  the  Natural  Tunnel.  It  is  in 
Scott  County,  and  consists  of  a  subterranean  channel  through  a 
ragged  limestone  hill,  the  entire  bed  of  which  is  watered  by  a 
running  stream  about  twenty  feet  wide.  The  cavern  is  four 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  from  sixty  to  eighty  feet  in  height, 
about  seventy  in  width,  and  of  a  serpentine  form.  On  either 
side  of  the  hill  through  which  this  tunnel  passes  are  perpendi- 
cular cliffs,  some  of  which  are  three  hundred  feet  high  and  ex- 
ceedingly picturesque.  The  gloomy  aspect  of  this  tunnel,  even 
at  mid-day,  is  very  imposing ;  for  when  standing  near  the  centre 
neither  of  its  outlets  can  be  seen,  and  it  requires  hardly  an 
effort  of  the  fancy  for  a  man  to  deem  himself  forever  entombed 
within  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 


THE    VALLEY   OF  VIRGINIA, 


-*ii 


Since  the  date  of  my  last  letter,  I  have  heen  travelling 
through  a  very  beautiful  but  thickly  settled  portion  of  the  Al- 
leghany country,  whose  natural  curiosities  are  as  familiar  to  the 
world  as  a  thrice-told  tale.  For  this  reason,  therefore,  I  shall 
be  exceedingly  brief  in  describing  what  I  have  seen  in  the  Val- 
ley of  Virginia.  That  portion  of  the  "  Ancient  Dominion," 
known  by  the  above  name,  is  about  two  hundred  miles  long, 
ranging  in  width  from  thirty  to  forty  miles.  It  is  bounded  on 
the  north  by  the  Potomac,  on  the  east  by  the  Blue  Ridge,  on 
the  west  by  a  spur  'of  the  AUeghanies,  called  the  North  Moun- 
tains, and  on  the  south  by  the  New  River,  or  Kanawha,  as  it 
should  be  called.  Its  principal  streams  are  the  Shenandoah, 
the  James  River,  and  the  Oacapon,  which  are  in  every  way 
worthy  of  their  parent  country.  In  ascending  to  the  north,  I 
was  tempted  to  perform  a  pilgrimage  down  the  Kanawha,  but 
my  map  told  me  that  I  could  not  see  the  whole  of  its  valley 
without  travelling  at  least  two  hundred  miles,  and  I  therefore 
concluded  that  its  charming  scenery,  its  famous  salt-works,  and 
the  still  more  celebrated  White  Sulphur  Springs,  should  remain 
undescribed  by  my  pen.  In  fact,  to  visit  all  the  interesting 
objects  among  the  Alleghany  Mountains  would  occupy  a  num- 
ber of  summers,  and  therefore,  in  making  a  single  tour  I  have 
found  it  important  to  discriminate  as  I  passed  along.  But  it  is 
time  that  I  should  turn  my  attention  to  the  prominent  attrac- 
tions of  the  great  Virginia  Valley.  They  are  as  follows,  and  I 
shall  speak  of  them  in  the  order  in  which  I  visited  them,  viz. : 
the  Peaks  of  Otter,  the  Natural  Bridge,  Wyer's  Cave,  Cyclo- 
pean Towers,  the  Shena. '^.oah,  and  Harper's  Ferry. 


m 


r-i 


r'¥. 


■  iiij 


,i..y 


468 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VIROINIA. 


The  Peaks  of  Otter  are  situated  upon  the  line  which  nepa- 
rates  the  counties  of  Bedford  and  Bottetourt,  and  are  the  two 
highest  mountains  on  the  Blue  Eidge  range,  and  therefore  the 
hishest  in  Virginia.  They  derive  their  name  from  the  fact, 
that,  at  a  very  early  period  in  the  history  of  out  country,  the 
otter  was  found  in  great  abundance  in  the  smaller  streams  at 
their  base.  In  appearance  they  resenlble  a  pair  of  regularly 
formed  haystacks,  and  reach  an  elevation  of  about  five  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  ocean.  Owing  to  the  circumstance 
that  the  country  on  one  side  is  nearly  level,  and  that  the  sur- 
rounding mountains  are  comparatively  low,  their  appearance  is 
exceedingly  imposing.  The  summits  of  these  watchtowers  are 
destitute  of  vegetation,  but  crowned  with  immense  rocks,  which 
have  been  scattered  about  in  the  most  incomprehensible  confu- 
sion. And  hereby  hangs  a  story.  About  one  year  ago,  a 
number  of  persons  ascended  the  highest  peak  in  question,  and 
having  discovered  an  immense  rock,  which  appeared  to  be  in  a 
tottering  position,  they  took  into  their  heads  to  give  it  a  start 
down  the  mountain  side  and  see  what  would  be  the  result.  They 
accomplished  their  purpose  and  something  more,  for  it  so  hap- 
pened that  the  rock  travelled  much  further  than  they  expected, 
and  having  fallen  into  a  very  large  spring  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain, caused  it  to  disappear  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  owner 
of  the  spring  felt  himself  injured  by  this  circumstance,  and  went 
to  law  about  it,  and  the  offending  parties,  as  I  have  been  in- 
formed, were  compelled  to  pay  a  heavy  bill  of  damages.  That  the 
sunrise  and  sunset  prospects  from  the  Peaks  of  Otter  are  superb 
may  readily  be  imagined.  Those  which  present  themselves  on 
the  north,  west,  and  south,  seem  to  comprise  the  entire  Ap- 
palachian chain  of  mountains,  but  the  oceanward  panorama  is 
unique  and  particularly  impressive.  In  this  direction  the  whole 
eastern  portion  of  Virginia  resembles  a  boundless  plain,  where 
even  the  most  extensive  plantations  appear  no  larger  'than  the 
squares  upon  a  chessboard ;  and  now  that  I  have  employed  that 
figure,  it  strikes  me  as  particularly  appropriate ;  for  where  is 
there  a  man  on  the  face  of  the  earth  who  is  not  playing  a  game 
for  the  attainment  of  happiness?    From  their  position,  the 


THB  VALLET  OF  VIROINIA. 


499 


earance  is 


Peaks  of  Otter  look  down  upon  all  the  fogn  and  vapors  bom  of 
the  sea  breezes,  and,  by  those  who  have  frequently  beheld  their 
fantastic  evolutions,  I  am  told  that  they  surpass  even  the  wild* 
est  flights  of  poetry.   Few  mountains  in  this  country  have  been 
visited  by  so  many  distinguished  men  as  the  Peaks  of  Otter ; 
and  it  is  said  that  it  was  while  standing  on  their  loftiest  pinna- 
cle that  John  Randolph  first  had  a  realizing  sense  of  the  exist- 
ence and  the  power  of  God.     To  some  minds  a  mountain  peal 
may  be  a  thousand-fold  more  eloquent  than  the  voice  of  n" 
and  when  I  think  of  the  highly  moral  condition  of  the  pe<.>pV 
in  Central  Yirgicia,  I  am  constrained  to  award  a  mite  of  praifi- 
even  to  the  Peaks  of  Otter  for  their  happy  influences. 

It  was  a  thousand  years  ago,  and  a  mighty  caravan  of  mam- 
moths were  travelling  across  the  American  continent.  Midway 
between  two  ranges  of  mountains  they  came  to  a  great  ravine, 
over  which  they  could  not  find  a  passage,  and  they  were  in  des- 
pair. The  Great  Spirit  took  pity  upon  the  animals,  and  hav- 
ing brought  a  deep  sleep  upon  them,  threw  a  mass  of  solid  rock 
completely  across  the  ravine,  and  so,  according  to  an  almost 
forgotten  Indian  legend,  came  into  existenc)  the  Natural  Bridge 
of  Virginia.  The  chasm  over  which  this  t  •"Qnificent  limestone 
arch  has  been  formed  varies  from  sixty  to  ninety  feet  in 
width,  the  surrounding  precipices  are  nearly  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  high  and  perpendicular,  and  the  lower  line  of  the 
narrow  arch  itself  is  two  hundred  feet  above  the  stream  which 
passes  through  the  gorge.  The  bridge  and  its  cliff-like  abut- 
ments are  all  crowned  with  a  luxuriant  diad^  of  trees,  which 
lends  them  an  indescribable  charm,  and  directly  on  the  north 
side  of  the  former  stands  an  exceedingly  picturesque  gallery  or 
parapet  of  solid  rock,  which  seems  to  have  been  formed  by 
Nature  for  the  especial  purpose  of  affording  the  most  imposing 
prospect  in  the  dell.  From  every  elevated  point  of  view 
the  eye  falls  into  an  abyss,  which  one  might  easily  fancy  to  be 
the  birthplace  of  all  the  shadows  in  the  world,  the  gray  and 
green  gloom  is  so  deep,  so  purely  beautiful,  and  so  refreshing, 
even  at  the  hour  of  noon ;  but  from  every  point  of  view  at  the 
bottom  of  tHe  dell,  the  stupendous  arch,  as  some  writer  has 


'mi 


rH 


"Hi,, 


Vjd 


■:.i.:a^ 


470 


THE  VALLEY  OF  VIRGINIA. 


4 


i 


finely  said,  ''seems  to  offer  a  passage  to  the  skies,"  and  the 
massive  masonry  of  Nature  stands  boldly  out  against  the  blue 
heavens,  thereby  producing  a  most  unique  and  poetical  con- 
trast. But  the  location  of  this  bridge  is  not  less  beautiful 
than  its  structure.  It  is  completely  surrounded  with  hills, 
which  seem  to  cluster  around  the  rare  spectacle,  as  if  to  pro- 
tect it  from  sacrilege ;  and  from  the  hills  in  question  the  eye 
is  everywhere  delighted  with  mountain  landscapes  of  uncommon 
loveliness. 

Wyer's  Cave  is  in  Augusta  county,  and  the  entrance  to  it  is 
from  the  side  of  a  limestone  hill,  which  commands  a  very 
charming  prospect  of  the  highly  cultivated  Valley  of  the  Shen- 
andoah. It  was  originally  discovered  by  one  Bernard  Wyer 
in  the  year  1804,  whose  fortune  it  was  to  capture  a  bear  within 
a  few  paces  of  its  entrance.  Its  entire  length  is  not  far  from 
one  thousand  yards,  so  that  its  size  is  not  to  be  wondered  at ; 
but  when  you  come  to  speak  of  its  beauty,  the  variety,  number, 
and  imposing  appearance  of  its  apartments,  the  novelty  of  its 
concretions,  snowy  stalactites,  its  fantastic  projections,  its  com- 
parative freedom  from  dampness,  and  the  whiteness  of  its  walls, 
I  suppose  it  must  be  considered  as  unsurpassed  by  any  thing  of 
the  kind  in  the  country,  excepting  the  Cave  of  Kentucky.  Its 
rooms  number  twenty,  its  greatest  depth  is  fifty  feet,  and  its 
temperature  50°  Fahrenheit.  But  the  pleasure  of  roaming 
about  this  darksome  emblem  of  perdition  is  greatly  enhanced 
by  the  huge  pine  torches  which  you  and  your  guide  have  to  carry 
over  your  heads,  tnd  then  if  you  can  possibly  bribe  your  friend 
not  to  utter  a  single  one  of  the  abominably  classical  names  with 
which  all  the  nooks  and  corners  of  the  cave  have  been  chris- 
tened, your  gratification  will  indeed  be  real,  and  your  impressions 
strange,  unearthly,  and  long-to-be-remembered  in  your  dreams. 
To  enjoy  a  visit  t^  this  cave,  as  it  ought  to  be  enjoyed,  a  man 
should  have  an  entire  summer  day  at  his  disposal,  be  alone,  and 
have  a  torch  that  should  need  no  trimming,  and  under  his  arm 
a  well-printed  copy  of  Dante.  Thus  prepared,  his  enjoyment 
would  be  truly  exquisite. 

The  Cyclopean  Towers  are  also  in  Augusta  county,  and  were 


THE  VALLEY  OP  VIRGINIA. 


471 


so  called  on  account  of  their  resemblance  to  the  Cyclopean 
walls  of  the  ancients.  They  are  formed  of  limestone,  and  as 
they  stand  at  the  outlet  of  a  valley,  through  which  it  is  proba- 
ble a  mighty  river  once  flowed,  they  were  evidently  formed  by 
the  water  while  forcing  its  way  around  the  point  of  the  neigh- 
boring hill.  There  are  five  or  six  of  them,  and  they  vary  from 
forty  to  ninety  feet  from  base  to  summit,  and  are  covered  with 
trees.  When  viewed  at  the  twilight  hour  they  appear  like  the 
mouldering  remains  of  a  once  magnificent  castle,  and  the  wild- 
ness  of  the  surrounding  scenery  is  not  all  calculated  to  dissipate 
this  illusion. 

With  regard  the  Valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  I  can  only  say 
that  a  more  beautiful  section  of  country  I  have  never  seen. 
The  soil  is  exceedingly  rich  and  highly  cultivated ;  its  yeomanry 
are  descended  from  the  German  population  of  the  older  times ; 
and  throughout  all  its  borders,  I  am  certain  that  peace  and 
plenty  abound.  As  to  the  river  itself,  I  can  only  say  that  it 
is  worthy  of  its  vague'  but  poetical  and  melodious  Indian  name, 
the  interpretation  of  which  is  said  to  be  Daughter  of  the  Stars. 

And  now  a  single  word  in  regard  to  Harper's  Ferry.  When 
I  close  my  eyes  and  bring  the  scenery  of  this  portion  of  the 
Potomac  before  my  mind,  I  am  disposed  to  agree,  in  every  par- 
ticular, with  all  those  writers  who  have  sung  the  praises  of  this 
remarkable  gorge ;  but  when  I  look  upon  it  as  it  now  appears, 
despoiled  by  the 'hand  of  civilization  of  almost  everything  which 
gives  a  charm  to  the  wilderness,  I  am  troubled  with  an  emotion 
allied  to  regret,  and  I  again  instinctively  close  my  eyes,  that  I 
may  look  into  the  past,  and  once  more  hear  the  whoop  of  the 
Indian  hunter  following  the  fleet  deer. ' 


iv:.. 


m 


:#. 


...y| 


A 


MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES  ON  THE  ALLEGHANY  MOUNTAINS. 


Since  the  foregoing  letters  were  published  in  the  National  Intelligencer,  the 
Hon.  Thomas  L.  Clingman,  of  Ncrth  Carolina,  has  addressed  a  communica- 
tion to  that  journal,  suggested  by  the  letters,  from  which,  and  other  interest- 
ing articles  which  he  has  shown  me,  I  hare  collected  the  following  items  of 
information.    And  first,  as  to  the  elevation  of  the  principal  mountains  allud- 
ed to  in  mj  letters,  as  ascertained  hj  actual  measurement  above  the  level  of 
the  sea.    Black  Mountain,  whose  highest  peak  has  been  named  after  Mr. 
Clingman,  the  first  to  explore  and  measure  it,  rises  very  nearly  TOOO  feet. 
Roan  Mountain  6187,  Grand  Father  Mountain  6719,  Chimney  Top  4433,  Tn- 
ble  Rock  3684,  and  the  Tuckaseege  Mountains  3705.    In  regard  to  the  geolo- 
gical formation  of  the  southwestern  counties  of  North  Carolina,  it  has  been 
asserted  by  eminent  geologists,  that  the  same  character  prevails  here,  which 
distinguishes  the  gold  and  diamond  regions  of  Brazil  and  Siberia ;  nor  can 
it  be  doubted  that  valuable  deposites  are  found  here  of  manganese,  lead, 
curome,  iroti,  zinc  and  marble,  with  many  precious  stones,  making  it  on  the 
whole  a  country  of  the  highest  mineralogical  promise.    The  latitude  and  ele- 
vation of  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  in  North  Carolina,  and  of  course  their 
temperature  is  the  same  with  those  of  ancient  Arcadia — the  country  of  herds- 
men and  shepherds.    From  this,  and  many  other  facts  it  is  argued  that  the 
raising  of  cattle  apd  sheep  will  eventually  be  the  prevailing  employments  of 
the  Carolina  mountaineers.    Though  the  soil  is  well  adapted  to  the  culture 
of  various  kinds  of  grain,  it  is  particularly  fitted  for  grasses ;  and  what  seems 
extraordinary  tu  a  stranger,  is  the  fact  that  the  soil  becomes  richer  as  the 
mountains  are  ascended.    The  timber  which  usually  covers  the  sides  of  the 
mountains  is  heavy,  free  from  underbrush  and  thereby  aflfording  {tee  pastur- 
age, while  very  many  of  the  mountains  are  wholly  free  from  timber,  but 
covered  with  a  must  luxuriant  growth  of  fine  wild  grasses,  whore  thousands 
of  cattle  may  remain  throughout  the  year  and  flourish.    The  few  sheep  that 
exist  in  the  country  thrive  remarkably  well,  and  are  sometimes  permitted  to 
run  at  large  during  the  winter  without  being  fed,  and  without  suffering.   The 
climate,  indeed,  is  beyond  all  praise ;  the  winters  are  moderate,  and  the  sum- 
mers delightfully  cool,  there  being  very  few  places  in  the  country  where  the 
thermometer  rises  above  80°  on  the  hottest  day. 

During  my  wanderings  in  North  Carolina,  I  was  piloted  by  a  mountaineer 
to  a  spot  ii!  Haywood  county,  where  it  was  stated  a  water  spout  had  occur- 


■■"***  I 


MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES. 


478 


red  a  few  years  ago,  and  the  bursting  forth  of  which  caused  a  very  great 
noise  and  the  shaking  of  the  earth.  I  was  pointed  to  the  side  of  a  small 
mountain,  and  on  looking  at  what  seemed  to  me  more  like  the  result  of  an 
avalanche,  than  anything  else,  I  was  told  such  was  the  effect  of  the  water 
spout.  From  Mr.  Clingman,  who  is  quite  learnf  d  in  the  science  of  geology, 
and  also  has  devoted  special  attention  to  this  phenomenon,  I  am  informed 
that,  at  different  periods,  within  the  recollection  of  persons  now  living,  this 
mountain  had  been  violently  agitated  and  broken  to  pieces.  The  first  shock 
occurred  in  th&  year  1811  or  1812,  and  the  last  in  1836,  while  it  is  asserted 
that  another  mountain  about  forty  miles  off,  was  also  convulsed  in  like  man* 
ner  in  1831.  In  the  case  of  the  former  mountain,  the  breadth  of  the  surface 
subjected  to  violence  was  uowLere  more'  than  two  hundred  yards,  generally 
rather  less  than  one  hundr  ed.  Along  this  space  the  ground  had  been  rent  asun- 
der in  various  places.  The  fissures  generally  ran  in  a  northern  direction,  but. 
sometimes  at  right  angles.  All  the  roots  of  trees  which  croi^sed  the  lines  of 
fracture  were  broken,  and  many  large  ones  had  been  throw;i  down.  The 
rocks  also,  were  cloven  by  these  lines.  The  top  of  the  mountain  seemed  to 
have  been  a  solid  mass  of  granite,  but  wa  j  now  broken  or  shattered.  The 
sides  of  the  mountain  are  covered  by  a  good  vegetable  mould,  not  particu- 
larly rocky,  and  sustaining  trees  of  large  size  ;  but  along  the  belt  of  convul- 
sion the  rocks  were  much  more  abundant ;  and  with  reference  to  the  mineral 
structure  of  the  locality,  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  entire  section  seems  to 
constitute  a  hypogcne  formation.  Whether  similar  disturbances  have  occur- 
red in  other  portions  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  I  cannot  say,  but  the  above 
particulars  may  be  of  service  to  those  who  feel  an  interest  in  the  wonders  of 
geology. 


"nii^^'iii 


% 


1";-, 


V  '^-^^ '  > 


THE 


SOURCES  or  THE  POTOMAC. 


ml 


■^ 


%i, 


'^u 


i 


Vr'U  \ 


ROMNEY. 


I  HEREWITH  commence  in  Romney  and  in  May,  another 
series  of  my  gossiffing  mountain  letters  for  the  Intelligencer, 
and  it  is  worthy  of  notice  that  I  am  writing  under  the  roof  of 
a  venerable  gentleman,  who  has  been  a  subscriber  to  that  jour- 
nal for  nearly  fifty  years,  and  that  there  is  an  immente  pile  of 
the  same  in  a  corner  of  my  room.  You  will  readily  imagine, 
therefore,  that  I  feel  somewhat  at  home,  though  distant  from 
my  real  home  "  o'er  the  far  blue  mountains." 

As  the  railroad  brought  me  to  Winchester,  I  shall  begin  the 
record  of  my  journey  with  what  I  have  seen  and  heard  on  this 
side  of  that  goodly  town.  The  distance  thither  is  forty-three 
miles,  and,  as  I  must  of  necessity  spend  much  of  my  time  in 
the  saddle,  I  was  fortunate  to  accomplish  this  distance  in  the 
rs«il  carriage,  and  I  ought  here  to  introduce  to  your  acquaint- 
ance my  only  companion,  the  driver  of  said  carriage  or  carry- 
all. He  is  thirty-five  years  of  age,  small  in  stature,  and  rusty 
to  an  uncommon  degree.  He  was  "raised"  in  Winchester, 
commenced  life  as  a  blacksmith,  and,  having  relinquished  that 
trade  for  the  art  of  coach-making,  he  subsequently  turned  mail- 
carrier,  in  which  capacity  he  has  zealously  labored  for  sixteen 
years.  His  annual  income  is  $120,  and,  chough  he  has  a  family 
to  support,  this  sum  is  deemed  fully  adequate  to  make  them 
comfortable.  He  is,  moreover,  without  any  property  "  to  fall 
back  upon,"  and  without  prosperous  relatives;  and  yet  this 
man  is  one  of  the  happiest  and  most  contented  I  ever  beheld. 
He  declared  to  me  that  he  knew  not  what  it  was  to  have  the 
bluet,  and  that  ho  could  never  see  any  sense  in  one's  making 


'NJ 


^i*!;! 


•S**! 
"'^, 


■yr 


4 


4.m 


M  'Ml 


478 


ROHNET. 


himself  miserable,  when  he  had  plenty  to  eat,  could  hear  a  good 
story  and  sing  a  good  song.  A  rational  motto  this,  after  all, 
and  faithfully  does  my  friend  adhere  to  it,  as  a  specimen  of  his 
conversation  will  testify. 

Much  of  the  country  over  which  he  trans^  ?ted  me  is  moun- 
tainous and  wild,  and,  in  spite  of  his  own  poverty,  he  could  not 
help  making  fun  of  the  poorer  inhabitants  that  we  happened  to 
notice  on  our  way.  We  saw  a  solitary  log-cabin,  for  example, 
standing  upon  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  whereupon  he  ex- 
claimed, "  That  man  has  a  passion  for  dogs."  '*  TV  hy  so  ?"  I 
inquired.  *'  Because  he  owns  no  less  than  nine,  three  to  keep  off 
the  wolves,  three  to  keep  off  the  bears,  aiA  three  to  pump  up 
water  by  a  patent  pump."  We  saw  another  cabin  situated  in 
a  hollow,  between  two  very  steep  but  partly  cultivated  moun- 
tains, and  this  called  forth  the  following  remark :  *'  That's  a 
very  fortunate  man  ;  for,  when  his  pumpkins  are  ripe  and  his 
potatoes  dug,  all  he  has  to  do  is  to  start  them  and  they  roll 
right  down  into  his  kitchen."  I  questioned  him  with  regard  to 
the  occupant  of  a  particularly  dilapidated  cabin,  and  he  replied, 
"  That  man  is  the  victim  of  mountain  wine."  "  What  kind  of 
a  beverage  is  that?"  I  continued.  "It's  made  of  Jamestown- 
weed  and  Fish-berrieSf  and  is  the*  fashionable  liquor  of  this  re- 
gion, when  people  hav'nt  any  money  and  can't  get  trusted." 
We  met  a  pedestrian  on  the  road,  whose  clothes  were  very 
much  worn  and  torn,  and  my  friend  informed  me  that  he  was 
a  fair  specimen  of  the  mountaineers  of  Hampshire  county.. 
"  But  why  don't  they  dress  more  comfortably?"  "  Oh,  they 
can't  help  it,"  he  replied ;  ."  th^j  live  upon  persimmons,  and 
damage  their  clothes  by  climbing." 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  be  giving  you  an  account  of  the 
Ice  Mountain,  the  principal  natural  curiosity  of  this  region, 
and  in  fact  the  only  one  worthy  of  particular  note.  It  lies  in 
the  vioinity  of  the  North  river,  a  tributary  of  the  Caspon  or 
Cacapon,  and  is  surrounded  with  hills  of  some  eight  hundred 
feet  in  height,  while  its  own  elevation  is  not  over  five  hundred. 
It  is  a  common-place  affair  to  the  casual  observer,  but,  en  be- 
ing inspected,  it  is  found  to  contain  near  its  summit  a  kind  of 


ROMNBT. 


479 


natural  ice  house  built  of  sandstone.  It  is  subject  to  the  rays 
of  the  sun  from  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  evening,  and 
jet  the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  country  cannot  remember  the 
time  when  an  abundance  of  the  purest  crystal  ice  could  not  be 
obtained  therefrom  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  The  ice  is  im- 
bedded in  the  rock,  and  in  some  of  the  crevices,  snow,  friable 
and  crystalline  as  when  newly  fallen,  is  often  found  even  in 
the  month  of  August.  As  might  be  expected,  the  waters  flow- 
ing from  the  mountain  are  by  several  degrees  colder  than  those 
in  the  neighborhood.  Accumulations  of  ice  similar  to  this 
have  been  discovered  in  other  sections  of  Hampshire  county, 
but  none  so  extensive.  To  account  for  this  phenomenon  upon 
scientific  principles  is  out  of  my  power,  but  I  can  see  much 
plausibility  in  the  following  remarks  from  the  pen  of  C.  B. 
Hayden,  Esq.,  as  published  in  Silliman's  Journal,  in  1843 : 

"  The  solution,  I  conceive,  is  to  be  found  in  the  large  and 
unusual  collection  of  rocks,  which  from  their  porous  homogen- 
eous texture,  are  extremely  poor  conductors  of  heat.  One  side 
of  the  mountain  consists  of  a  massive  wall,  many  hundred  feet 
in  thickness,  and  heaped  up  against  this,  as  an  abutment,  is  a 
mass  of  rocks  containing  several  thousand  cubic  feet.  As  the 
mountain  has  a  general  direction  from  northeast  to  southwest, 
the  talus  heap  containing  the  ice  has  a  northwest  exposure. 
The  cavernous  nature  of  this  heap  would  admit  the  free  en- 
trance of  atmospheric  waters,  which  during  the  winter  would 
form  ice  in  the  interior  of  the  mass.  The  ice  thus  situated 
would  be  protected  from  external  heat  by  the  surroun^ng  rocks, 
as  ice  in  a  refrigerator  is  isolated  and  protected  from  the  exter- 
nal temperature  by  the  non-conducting  sides  of  the  refrigera- 
tor. The  Ice  Mountain  only  requires  for  the  explanation  of  its 
phenomenon  the  application  of  the  familiar  principle  upon 
which  is  constructed  the  common  refrigerator,  which  tempora- 
rily effects  what  the  Ice  Mountain  permanently  does — a  tem- 
perature independent  of  external  causes.  This  mountain  is,  in 
fact,  a  huge  sandstone  refrigerator,  whose  increased  and  unu- 
sual effects,  beyond  those  of  the  ordinary  refrigerator,  are  due 
to  the  increased  collection  of  poor  conducting  materials  which 
form  its  sides." 


<h 


r.?5?i 


4 


■:ir,:s 


a 


480 


ROMNET. 


Midway  between  Winchester  and  this  place  the  road  crosses 
the  Capon  River,  which  is  indeed  a  charming  stream,  rapid, 
clear  and  cold.  It  is  some  seventy-five  miles  long,  and  r  ear  its 
fountain  head  is  called  the  Lost  River,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
for  the  distance  of  several  hundred  yards  it  entirely  disappears 
from  view  under  a  hill,  after  which  it  resumes  its  course  as 
naturally  and  unconcerned  as  if  it  had  not  performed  a  remark- 
able feat.  Throughout  its  entire  course  it  is  hemmed  in  with 
moderately  high  mountains,  and  its  bottom  lands  are  narrow, 
but  fertile  and  well  cultivated.  Wheat  is  the  principal  product, 
and  the  yield  is  sufficient  to  support  a  number  of  "  merchant 
yiils,"  which  transport  their  flour  to  market  by  teams  to  Win- 
chester and  the  Ohio  Railroad.  As  to  the  fish  of  Capon  River 
the  leather-mouthed  varieties  are  the  most  abundant,  although 
I  am  informed  that  trout  are  frequently  taken  in  the  Lost 
River  and  its  tributaries,  as  also  in  the  North  river,  wiiich  is  a 
branch  of  the  Capon.  In  the  way  of  same,  the  hill  country  is 
well  supplied  with  deer  and  foxes,  both  of  which  are  hunted 
with  hounds. 

The  well  known  spot  called  Capon  Springs  we  left  about  a 
dozen  miles  on  our  left.  It  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  places  for 
a  summer  sojourn  to  be  found  in  Virginia,  located  in  a  pictu- 
resque hollow  of  the  North  Mountains,  two  miles  from  the 
Capon  River,  and  boasts  of  a  handsome  spring  of  water  without 
any  particular  virtue,  of  spacious  and  convenient  bathing 
houses  and  quite  an  elegant  hotel,  which  has  just  been  opened. 
Within  a  dozen  miles  of  Capon  Springs  I  have  thrown  the  flies 
for  trout  with  great  success.* 

And  those  who  have  a  passion  for  caves  will  find  a  very  sin- 
gular one  i|^this  county,  a  knowledge  of  which  is  as  yet  mostly 
confined  to  the  bats  that  inhabit  its  secret  chambers.  It  is 
located  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  called  Long  Lick,  and  while 
the  aperture  at  the  mouth  is  only  about  four  feet  in  diameter, 
it  enlarges  as  you  descend,  like  an  inverted  funnel,  and  after 
going  down  to  the  distance  of  seventy  feet  by  means  of  a  rope 

*  One  month  after  the  above  was  written  it  was  my  privilege  to  accompany 
the  Hon.  Daniel  Webster  upon  a  visit  to  Capon  Springs  where  he  delivered 
one  of  his  happiest  after-dinner  speeches. 


BOMNET. 


481 


th'>  explorer  finds  himself  on  a  rocky  floor,  with  several  passages 
on  his  right  and  left  leading  to  other  rooms  which  have  never 
been  visited. 

And  now  for  a  word  about  the  little  village  of  Romney  where 
I  am  spending  a  couple  of  days.  It  is  situated  within  half  a  mile 
of  the  South  Branch  of  the  Potomac,  flanked  on  the  east  by  a 
lot  of  miscellaneously  planted  hills,  while  on  the  western  side  is 
a  ridge  of  steep  mountain  lands,  which,  when  thrown  into  shadow 
at  the  sunset  hour,  presents  the  appearance  ^  an  immense 
rampart,  the  river  flowing  at  its  base  answering  as  a  moat  to  the 
fortification.  The  scenery  all  about  Romney  is  quite  beautiful, 
some  of  it  indeed  might  be  termed  imposing.  This  portion  of 
the  South  Potomac  runs  through,  or  rather  along  the  western 
side  of  a  narrow  but  fertile  bottom  land,  and  at  the  two  points 
down  the  river,  four,  and  six  miles  distant,  there  are  perpen- 
dicular bluffs,  which  I  will  describe  presently.  The  population 
of  Romney  is  estimated  at  six  hundred  souls,  and  the  hand- 
somest compliment  that  I  can  pay  its  inhabitants  is  to  mention 
the  fact  that  they  support  two  well-conducted  boarding-schools. 
One  of  them  is  in  charge  of  the  Episcopalians  of  the  place,  and 
the  other  of  the  Presbyterians.  The  edifices  are  of  brick, 
neatly  built  and  spacious,  and  surrounded  with  tastefully 
arranged  grounds.  The  town  derives  its  chief  importance  from 
being  the  county  seat ;  and  that  the  people  are  fond  of  good 
living  (like  all  true  Virginians)  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  venison,  trout,  corncakes,  and  maple  molasses  have  been 
my  principal  food  since  I  arrived  here ;  the  venison  was  of  that 
peculiar  quality  which  is  denominated  mountain  mutton,  and  as 
to  the  trout,  they  were  chiefly  taken  by  myself — and,  though 
the  largest  in  the  lot  measured  some  fourteen  inches,  he  cost 
me  a  walk  of  just  as  many  miles. 

Romney,  I  forgot  to  mention,  is  also  upon  the  line  of  a 
capital  road,  connecting  the  Ohio  and  Potomac  rivers,  over 
which  there  are  constantly  passing  extensive  herds  of  beef-cattle 
bound  to  the  Baltimore  market.  At  least  five  hundred  head, 
have  passed  through  the  village  since  yesterday  morning,  and 
I  am  informed  that  this  business  continues  through  every  month 
81 


'm 


•:*r,. 


?"■■•■ 


Kktii 


111 


T 


■0I» 
•.rm 


m 
il 


482 


ROMNEY. 


i 


» 


in  the  year.  Some  of  the  drovers  are  men  who  have  r^^T'ed  and 
fattened  their  cattle  upon  their  own  farms,  while  others  are 
speculating  droyers,  who  buy  up  their  cattle,  and  take  them  to 
market.  The  business  of  feeding  these  cattle  on  the  road,  is 
quite  lucrative  to  the  feeder,  but  expensive  to  the  drover,  since 
they  travel  only  about  a  dozen  miles  per  day,  while  pasturage 
for  a  single  night  costs  ten  cents  per  head,  and  fodder  about 
fifteen.  Some  fine  cattle  are  said  to  be  sent  to  market  from 
Western  Virginia,  but  it  seems  to  be  generally  acknowledged 
that  the  finest  cattle  come  from  beyond  the  Ohio. 

The  blufis  alluded  to  above  are  known  as  the  Hanging  rocks, 
and,  though  rather  tame  to  one  familiar  with  the  scenery  of  the 
Saguenay  and  Tallulah,  they  are  decidedly  worth  seeing.  The 
nearest  bluff  is  the  most  interesting,  and  rises  from  the  eastern 
margin  of  the  Potomac  to  a  height  varying  from  two  to  three 
hundred  feet,  and  extending  along  the  river  for  six  hundred 
yards.  The  lower  strata  of  rock  is  limestone,  and  the  upper 
strata  sandstone.  When  seen  from  a  distance,  and  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  river,  (the  waters  of  which  are  very  clear,  and 
literally  as  green  as  emerald,)  the  rocks  bear  a  striking  resem- 
blance to  a  block  of  very  ancient  six  story  stone  houses,  such 
as  we  see  pictured  by  the  artists  of  the  old  world.  Stained  as 
they  are  with  almost  every  color,  from  yellow  and  red  to  black 
and  brown,  to  really  requires  but  little  fancy  for  one  to  discover 
therein,  doors  and  curtained  windows,  alcoves  with  pieces  of 
statuary,  richly  carved  wainscotings  and  cornices,  bird-cages 
and  flags,  hanging  porticoes,  and  fantastic  sign-boards.  The 
whole  bluff,  indeed,  looks  like  a  specimen  of  magnificent  but 
rude  masonry ;  and  at  one  point  the  rocks  have  formed  them- 
selves into  a  cluster  of  towers,  which  appear  as  we  may  imagine 
the  edifice  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  will  appear  a  thousand 
years  hence,  when  overgrown  with  rank  mosses  and  vines. 
When  yon  come  to  stand  at  the  base  of  the  bluff,  however,  its 
aspect  is  greatly  changed ;  it  topples  over  your  head  in  a  fear- 
ful manner,  and  is  as  scragged  and  jagged,  and  rugged,  as  un- 
couth and  wild  as  any  thing  of  the  kind,  I  have  ever  seen,  (and 
I  have  travelled  much  among  the  mountains  of  our  land.)    Tra- 


• 

ROMNET. 


483 


dition  says  that  there  was  once  a  famous  battle  fought  upon  the 
brow  of  the  Hanging  Rocks  between  two  hostile  tribes  of  Indians, 
and  this  story  may  well  be  believed,  for  upon  a  field  in  full 
view  of  the  bluff  are  to  be  seen  two  hillocks  marking  the  graves 
of  the  slain ;  and  it  is  a  singular  circumstance  that,  though  well 
nigh  a  century  has  passed  away  since  the  red  man  were  masters 
of  this  soil,  hatchets  of  steel,  such  as  were  then  in  use,  have 
frequently  been  brought  to  light  from  these  very  graves. 


'  ^i[ 


fef*' 


hi 

T- 


V 


At: 


iw'^ 


11 


MOORFIELD. 


'P 


I  AM  now  writing  some  twenty-seven  miles  further  up  the 
South  Branch  of  the  Potomac  than  where  my  last  letter  was 
dated.  The  intervening  country,  bordering  upon  the  river,  is 
mostly  mountainous,  but  not  remarkably  picturesque,  except- 
ing at  one  ppint,  about  six  miles  from  this  place,  where  there 
appears  to  be  a  second,  but  inferior,  edition  of  the  "  Hanging 
Rocks."  With  the  hamlet  of  Moor  field,  however,  and  espe- 
cially the  surrounding  country,  I  have  been  much  pleased.  It 
lies  near  the  centre  of  a  valley,  which  has  appropriately  been 
termed  the  Garden  of  Vijjginia.  It  contains  about  five  hun- 
dred inhabitants,  is  ornamented  with  two  handsome  little 
churches,  (Methodist  and  Presbyterian,)  and  about  the  village, 
the  people,  and  the  counliry,  there  is  a  kind  of  Arcadian  sim- 
plicity, which  is  truly  refreshing  to  one  accustomed  to  city  life. 
As  to  the  landlord  and  table  of  the  Virginia  House,  where  I 
am  staying,  it  affords  me  pleasure  to  say  they  would  be  an  ac- 
quisition in  any  of  the  eastern  cities.  The  valley  in  question 
is  about  twelve  miles  long,  and  from  one  to  two  miles  wide, 
level,  and  very  fertile,  and  compbitely  hemmed  in  by  wood- 
covered  mountains  of  moderate  elevation,  from  the  summit  of 
which  the  beautiful  Potomac  may  be  seen,  pursuing  its  serpen- 
tine course.  Many  of  the  farmers  in  the  valley  are  wealthy, 
and  none  of  them  poor — the  marketable  price  of  the  land  aver- 
aging about  one  hundred  dollars  per  acre.  Corn  is  the  prin- 
cipal product ;  and  it  is  said  that  some  of  the  fields  have  yi;>lded 
a  good  crop  annually  for  upwards  of  thirty  years.  Hence  the 
reputation  of  the  valley  for  its  cattle,  which  are  raised  in  groat 


MOORFIELD. 


485 


numbers  and  of  the  finest  quality ;  and  at  this  very  moment 
there  is  passing  my  window,  bound  to  Washington,  a  drove  of 
one  hundred.  Indeed,  the  people  here  are  pre-eminently  inde- 
pendent in  outward  circumstances  as  well  as  in  their  feelings. 

On  Sunda^ast  I  attended  morning  service  in  the  Presby- 
terian Church,  and  was  particularly  pleased  with  what  I  there 
saw  and  heard.  The  audience  was  large,  and  consisted  of  a 
goodly  number  of  the  sturdy  and  more  aged  of  the  yeomanry 
of  the  valley,  with  their  wives  and  children,  and  children's 
children,  who  conducted  themselves  with  a  degree  of  propriety 
that  I  have  seldom  seen  excelled  in  communities  boasting  of  all 
the  refinements  of  the  age.  In  every  particular  the  church 
was  plain,  but  perfectly  neat  and  comfortable ;  and  instead  of 
an  organ,  with  its  attending  flourishes  and  overtures,  psalms 
and  hymns  were  sung  by  the  congregation,  to  the  good  old  tunes 
of  a  century  ago.  The  preacher  was  the  Rev.  William  N. 
Scott,  a  man  venerable  in  years,  and  the  father  of  two  sons, 
who  are,  as  I  am  informed,  eminent  in  the  sacred  professiin  of 
their  father.  The  text  on  the  occasion  was  as  follows,  (Prov.  iv. 
18) :  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  ;"  and  the  sermon  was  a 
tribute  of  rc^'nect  to  the  memory  of  a  young  lady,  who  had 
recently  dieu  of  consumption.  The  preacher  spoke  extempo- 
raneously, with  a  soft  and  plaintive  voice  using  concise  and 
elegant  language ;  and,  as  he  briefly  commented  upon  the  beau- 
tiful and  Christian  character  of  the  deceased,  I  was  forcibly 
reminded  of  Irving's  touching  essay  entitled  '"The  Pride  of  the 
Village."  The  range  of  thought  throughout  the  discourse  was 
elevated,  and  yet  there  was  something  about  it  in  strict  keep- 
ing with  the  rural  district  in  which  it  was  delivered — the 
imagery  being  drawn  from  the  works  of  nature,  as  ^tually 
seen  in  part  from  the  pulpit  which  the  preacher  occupied. 
For  example,  in  speaking  of  the  law  of  progression,  (which  was 
the  loading  idea  of  tho  sermon,)  he  remarked  to  his  hearers 
that  it  was  seen  in  the  flowing  streams  of  their  valleys,  and  tho 
giant  ouks  upon  their  mountains,  as  well  as  in  tho  planetary 
worlds,  tho  human  intellect,  and  tho  light  of  revelation  as  de- 


m 


I 


486 


MOOBFIBLD. 


veloped  in  the  human  heart.  Upon  the  whole,  the  sermon  was 
really  an  impressive  one. 

With  regard  lo  natural  curiosities,  the  region  of  Moorfield 
is  rather  meagre  •;  and  it  may  afford  to  be  without  them,  since 
it  can  boast  of  the  rarest  scenery  and' superior  igricultural  re- 
sources. In  the  way  of  interesting  characters,  however,  it  is 
well  supplied. 

One  story  that  I  have  picked  up  here,  illustrates  the  character 
of  an  old  hunter,  who  lives  upon  one  of  the  neighbcring  moun- 
tains. For  many  years  past  he  has  imposed  upon  the  credulity 
of  his  more  ignorant  brethren  o'.'  the  bush,  by  passing  himself 
off  as  a  wizard,  by  which  profes'jion  he  managed  to  accumulate 
a  good  deal  of  money.  And  the  manner  in  which  he  originally 
established  his  reputation,  and  made  himself  the  to  of  the 
counti-y,  was  as  follows : 

A  brother  hunter  came  to  him  with  his  rifle,  declaring  that 
he  had  made  many  dhots  at  deer  and  Othci*  wild  animals,  but 
thattlie  could  never  hit  any  of  them,  and  he  therefore  supposed 
it  must  be  out  of  order.  The  wizard  examined  the  gun,  and 
perceiving  at  a  glance  that  the  sight  was  only  out  of  its  proper 
place,  he  mysteriously  shook  his  head,  and  said  that  the  gun 
had  a  spell  upon  it,  which  could  not  be  removed  without  the  pay- 
ment of  three  dollars.  The  man  paid  the  money,  and  was  told 
to  call  on  the  morrow.  The  eight  was  then  fixed  in  its  proper 
place,  and  when  the  man  came  after  his  gun,  he  gave  it  a  fair 
trial,  and  expressed  himself  as  perfectly  satisfied.  The  wizard 
then  told  the  man  that  he  must  perform  another  secret  incanta- 
tion over  the  gun,  and  that  it  would  be  ready  to  take  away  in 
one  hour ;  whereupon  he  retired  into  a  room  alone,  when  he 
proceeded  to  load  the  gun  with  a  small  charge  of  powder,  using 
for  a  ^d  a  quantity  of  soft  spunk  ;  and  this  charge  ho  con- 
tinued to  repeat  till  the  barrel  was  filled  within  a  foot  of  the 
muzzle.  He  now  came  forth  to  deliver  the  gun  into  tho  hands 
of  its  owner,  and  .while  giving  him  some  particular  directions 
as  to  how  he  must  hold  tho  gun,  and  prohibiting  him  from 
looking  behind,  while  ho  was  to  hasten  home  with  all  possible 
despatch,  tho  wizard  slyly  dropped  a  ooal  of  fire  into  tho  rifle, 


MOORFIELD. 


487 


I 


and  the  man  disappeared.  Hr  ily  had  he  gone  a  hundred 
yards  before  bang!  went  the  old  gun,  and  the  hunter  was 
alarmed ;  a  few  moments  more,  and  a  second  charge  followed, 
and  he  was  astounded ;  bnothcr  brief  period  elapsed,  and  still 
another  report  followed;  another,  and  still  another,  when  the 
poor  hunter  became  almost  frantic  with  fear,  and  throwing  the 
gun  away,  he  ran  for  his  home  with  all  speed,  while  nearly' 
every  dozen  paces  that  he  accomplished  was  measured  by  the 
explosions  of  the  spell-bound  gun.  Of  course  the  narrow  escape 
which  he  had  mr  3e  was  soon  spread  far  and  wide,  and  the 
power  as  well  as  wickedness  of  the  wizard  were  universally 
acknowledged. 

Of  another  eocontric  cVaiacter,  a  wealthy  but  improvident 
farmer,  long  since  deceased,  I  have  heard  the  following  parti- 
culars :  He  was  famous  for  always  being  in  a  hurry,  and  on  one 
occasion  ho  set  out  from  home  early  in  the  morning,  informing 
Lis  family  that  ho  was  in  a  hurry,  and  would  be  back  in  a  couple 
of  days.  He  departed,  and  was  gone  ttvo  years.  On  his  return, 
he  stopped  within  a  mile  of  his  own  habitation,  where  he  met 
an  old  acquaintance,  who  invited  him  to  supper.  "  Oh,  I  am 
in  a  hurry,"  he  replied,  "  and  cannot."  But  he  did  dismount, 
and  spent  two  weeks  with  his  friend.  Ho  once  went  to  Wash- 
ington with  a  drove  of  cattle,  and,  just  as  ho  was  about  ready 
to  return,  he  thought  he  would  call  and  pay  his  respects  to  the 
(then)  President,  Mi .  Adams.  Ho  did  so,  riding  directly  up  to 
the  front  door  of  the  White  House.  He  happened  to  meet  the 
President  at  the  threshold,  who  invited  him  to  come  in  and 
spend  a  little  time.  He  was  again  "  in  a  hurry,  and  had  not 
tho  liesure  to  spare,"  but  finally  had  his  horse  sent  to  the  stable, 
and  spent  only  ten  days  as  the  guest  of  the  President.  Towards 
tho  latter  part  of  his  life,  ho  was  a  good  deal  troubled  by  the 
sheriff  of  tho  county,  who  was  constantly  trying,  but  in  vain, 
to  execute  a  ea.  sa.  upon  him.  During  this  period  he  was  par- 
ticularly a  "7to»«(;-body,"  and  of  course  was  constantly  on  tho 
watch  for  the  officer  of  justice ;  and,  whenever  he  saw  that 
officer  approaching  his  dwelling,  ho  would  lock  his  doors,  and 
ascending  to  an  upper  window,  would  there  safely  hold  a  con- 


1 


mil 


:;n.i 


0i 


til: 


'^1 


488 


MOORFIBLD. 


# 
I 


versation  with  the  sheriff,  and  also  lower  into  his  hands,  by  a 
small  cord,  a  glass  of  old  eye  whiskey,  with  cake  aud  apples. 
Four  years  before  his  death  he  was  prosecuted  for  tht  non-pay- 
ment of  a  largo  debt,  which  he  declined  settling  upon  any  con- 
ditions. The  lawyers,  after  taking  his  personal  property, 
told  him  that  unless  he  consented  to  give  up  his  real  estatt;,  he 
vrould  have  to  be  imprisoned.  He  was  perverse  in  his  opposi- 
tion, and  had  to  take  up  his  abode  in  the  county  jail.  He  had 
i\  room  handsomely  fitttd  up  for  his  accommodation,  where,  in 
the  enjoyment  of  good  liquor  and  all  the  luxuries  of  the  coun- 
try, he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days.  He  was  a  great 
favorite  in  this  section  of  f^ountry,  and  his  funeral  was  one  of 
the  largest  that  ever  took  place  in  Moorficld. 

As  I  looked  out  of  my  window  yesterday  morning,  I  chanced 
to  notice  a  young  man  mounted  upon  a  horse,  riding  along  the 
strcot  at  a  furious  rate.  He  had  a  remarkably  fine  counte- 
nance, with  a  head  of  hair  of  uncommon  length,  and  was  dressed 
in  a  suit  of  Lincoln-green,  with  such  a  hat  as  artists  love  to 
portray  in  their  pictures,  and  he  was  followed  by  three  dogs. 
I  inquired  his  name,  and  found  it  to  be  Che,  lea  W.  Alexander, 
and  further  ascertained  that  he  had  recently  become  a  painter 
by  profession,  and  was  now  upon  a  hunt  after  a  fox  or  a  deer. 
I  have  this  morning  had  the  pleasure  of  being  introduced  to 
this  gallant  hunter-artist,  and  examined  some  of  his  pictures. 
They  consist  of  family  portraits,  aod  copies  froiu  .^'''oh  artists 
as  Stuart,  Sully,  and  Nagle,  and  considering  them  as  the  pro- 
ductions of  a  young  and  entirely  self-taught  artist,  are  full  of 
merit  and  truly  astonishing.  I  have  chronicled  his  name, 
simply  because  I  would  prophecy  for  him,  as  a  painter,  (if  he 
will  only  apply  himself,  and  spend  his  winters  in  NeW  York  or 
Philadelphia,)  a  prominent  career.  But  ho  must  expect  to  la- 
bor without  ceasing. 

But  I  must  bring  oven  this  brief  letter  to  a  close,  for  my 
horse,  purchased  in  this  place,  is  at  the  door,  waiting  to  carry 
me  into  what  I  have  been  led  to  imagine  a  peculiarly  savage 
mountain  wilderness ;  and  as  fortune  will  have  it,  I  am  to  bo 
accompanied  by  a  couple  of  ventnrcbome  fheiids. 


s,  by  a 
apples. 
)n-pay- 
nv  con- 
opt'ty, 
tatK,  he 

op^iosi- 
Ile  had 
here,  in 
he  coun- 

a  great 
,8  one  of 

chanced 
long  the 
e  counte- 
rs dressed 
ts  love  to 
rec  dogs. 
lexander, 
a,  painter 
>r  a  deer, 
ucod  to 
)ictureB. 
I  artists 
tlic  pro- 
•e  full  of 
name, 
Br,  (if  he 
York  or 
ect  to  la- 

,  for  my 

to  carry 

y  savage 

Im  to  bo 


13 


THE  HERMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEGHANIES. 


My  ride  from  Moorfield  to  Seneca  Creek,  a  distance  of  thirty 
miles,  has  been  quite  interesting.  The  ten  miles  of  road  lying 
between  that  town  and  Petersburg  runs  nearly  all  the  way 
through  a  rich  bottom  land,  with  nothing  in  particular,  how- 
ever, to  rivet  the  attention  but  a  picturesque  bluff,  on  the 
summit  of  which  the  rocks  have  been  so  curiously  piled  up,  as 
to  resemble  two  pieces  of  statuary,  representing  a  crouching 
panther  and  a  running  deer.  At  the  base  of  this  bluff  is  a 
fording  place,  in  crossing  which,  a  man  was  once  thrown  from 
his  horse,  and  having  been  drowned,  his  body  was  subsequently 
found  in  a  neighboring  pool  of  the  South  Potomac,  standing 
erect,  with  both  arms  extended  as  if  in  supplication. 

I  spent  a  night  with  my  companions  in  the  dingy-looking 
hamlet  of  Petersburg,  where  I  picke-'i  up  the  following  particu- 
lars respecting  an  almost  obsolete  custom,  peculiar  to  this 
section  of  the  country.  It  is  termed  running  for  the  bottle,  and 
is  a  kind  of  interlude  or  episode  in  a  marriage  celebration. 
When  a  buxom  lady  is  about  to  be  married,  every  body  is 
invited  to  the  wedding,  und  two  entire  days  are  devoted  to 
feasting  and  dancing,  when  the  time  arrives  that  she  is  to  be 
taken  to  the  residence  of  her  lord  and  master.  This  change  of 
location  is  accomplished  on  horseback,  and  the  groom  and  bride 
are  invariably  accompanied  by  their  guests,  who  combine  to 
form,  as  they  journey  in  pairs,  a  truly  im;>o?ing  cavalcade, 
varying,  according  to  circumstances,  froiri  one  to  two  hundred 
persons.  The  day  of  the  march  is  of  course  a  pleasant  one, 
and  the  journey  to  be  accomplished  ia  perhaps,  five  miles.    At 


''"ill 

ml 


Mill 

Mill 

ff;1 


r 


■ '  f 


490 


THE  HERMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEGHAKIES. 


^f-m^ 


the  residence  of  the  groom  every  thing  is  in  a  state  of  prepa- 
ration for  the  reception  of  the  party,  and  with  especial  care,  a 
bottle  of  choice  liquor,  richly  decked  out  with  ribands,  has  been 
placed  upon  a  high  post  at  the  front  gate  of  the  dwelling. 
While  the  cavalcade  are  on  the  move,  and  have  arrived  within 
one  mile  of  the  place,  the  master  of  ceremonies  steps  aside  upon 
his  horse,  and  extends  an  invitation  to  all  the  gentlemen  present, 
to  join  in  a  race  for  the  bottle,  which  is  known  to  be  in  waitirg 
for  the  winner  of  the  race,  whose  privilege  it  will  be  to  drink 
the  health  of  the  bride  on  her  arrival.  Fifty  of  the  younger 
men  in  the  party  have  perphaps  accepted  the  invitation  extended 
to  them,  and,  leaving  the  procession,  they  start  off  at  full  speed 
for  the  much-desired  bottle.  The  road  is  winding,  and  perhaps 
stony,  and  stumpy,  and  muddy ;  but  what  matter  ?  Away  they 
fly,  like  a  party  of  Indians  after  buffalos ;  while  along  the  road, 
it  may  be,  cattle  are  bellowing,  sheep  bleating,  dogs  barking, 
hens  cackling,  and  crows  cawing.  The  goal  is  now  in  sight ; 
one  effort  more,  and  the  foremost  horseman  is  at  the  gate,  and 
has  received  from  the  hands  of  the  groom's  sister,  the  much 
desired  bottle ;  then  ascend  the  huzzas  and  shoutings  of  that 
portion  of  the  people  assembled  to  welcome  the  bride. 

Meanwhile,  the  cavalcade  comes  in  sight,  headed,  as  before, 
by  the  groom  and  bride,  and,  as  they  approach  the  gate,  the 
winner  of  the  bottle  comes  forth  upon  his  horse,  and  pour- 
ing a  portion  of  liquor  into  a  goblet,  presents  it  to  the  bride, 
and  has  the  satisfaction  of  being  the  first  to  drink  the  good 
health  of  her  newly-married  ladyship.  The  huzzas  and  shout- 
ings continue,  when,  in  tlie  midst  of  the  direst  confusion,  the 
ladies  arc  assisted  into  the  house,  the  horses  are  stabled,  and  a 
regular  siege  of  two  or  three  days  dancing  and  feasting  and 
carousing  succeeds,  with  which  the  wedding  is  terminated.  But 
to  continue  my  journey . 

The  road  from  Potersburg  to  this  place  runs  along  the  north 
fork  of  the  South  Potomic,  a  wild  and  roaring,  but  very  beau- 
tiful mountain  stream,  'liie  rivo;  itself  is  exceedingly  serpen- 
tine, but  the  road  is  vastly  more  so,  and  wo  had  to  ford  the 
former  at  least  thirty  times,  often  too,  exposed  to  considerable 


THE  HEBMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEGHANIES. 


491 


)repa- 
lare,  a 
s  been 
elling. 
■within 
le  upon 
resent, 
waitirg 
)  drink 
rounger 
stended 
11  speed 
perhaps 
ray  they 
lie  road, 
barking, 
n  sight; 
rate,  and . 
he  much 
}  of  that 

,9  before, 
gate,  the 
nd  pour- 
10  bride, 
|the  good 
td  shout- 
ision,  the 
)d,  and  a 
king  and 
ted.  But 

Itho  north 
lery  beau- 
jy  serpen- 
ford  the 
biderablo 


danger.  The  scenery  throughout  the  entire  route  is  truly  su- 
perb, fully  equal,  in  many  particulars,  to  that  of  the  White  and 
Adirondac  mountains.  The  hills  are  covered  with  forests  of 
luxuriant  growth,  rising  in  many  places  to  the  height  of  at 
least  three  thousand  feet,  and  for  many  miles  presenting  per- 
pendicular walls  from  five  hundred  to  fifteen  hundred  feet  high. 
The  three  most  imposing  of  the  natural  structures  hero  seen 
are  known  as  the  Golding  Gorge,  the  Fire  CliflF,  and  the  Seneca 
Chasm.  They  are  all  of  such  a  character  as  to  be  undescribable 
by  words ;  they  are  indeed  wonderful  to  a  remarkable  degree. 
The  first,  for  example,  located  some  ten  miles  from  the  mouth 
of  the  north  fork,  is  a  massive  and  narrow  opening,  through 
which  the  stream  forces  itself,  with  a  stupendous  bluff  on  the 
left  hand,  hanging  or  toppling  over  the  stream.  The  second, 
four  miles  further  off  on  the  left,  is  a  perpendicular  but  narrow, 
and  perfectly  bare  ridge  of  slate  and  sandstone  towers  and 
turrets,  looming  against  the  siy  to  the  height  of  more  than  a 
thousand  feet ;  and,  at  the  time  I  beheld  it,  the  mountain,  of 
which  it  forms  a  part,  was  on  fire,  so  that  the  pictm-e  which 
the  whole  presented  was  magnificent.  The  third,  which  is  di- 
rectly at  tbc  mouth  of  Seneca  creek,  resembles  the  second  in 
its  general  formation,  but  is  more  lofty  and  fairy-like ;  gorgeous 
in  the  blended  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  more  frowning  and 
overhanging  in  some  of  its  phases. 

Delighted,  however,  and  deeply  impressed,  as  I  have  been  by 
the  sceneM|of  this  Alpine  land,  I  have  been  far  more  interested 
in  'an  ol(^roman,  whom  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing. 
Her  name  is  Elizabeth  Golding,  or  Goklizon,  and  she  resides 
in  a  log  cabin,  entirely  alone,  directly  at  the  foot  of  the  gorge 
which  has  taken  her  name.  She  is  of  German  origin,  and  re- 
presents herself  as  one  hundred  and  ttoelve  years  of  age.  She 
was  born,  according  to  her  own  words,  "  within  a  two  days' 
ride  of  Philadolphia,  in  Pennsylvania,"  and  her  father  was  a 
soldier  in  the  Revolution  under  Washington,  and  she  herself 
was  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  American  camp  at  the 
defeat  of  General  Braddock,  of  which  event  she  habitually  re- 
counts a  great  number  of  interesting  and  thrilling  incidents, 


i 


% 


illll 

all  I 

Ill'l 

ill!  i 


i 


iiib.tl 


i! 


'if  I 

m 


r 


r 


492 


THE  HERMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEGHANTES. 


closing  each  paragraph  with  the  remark  that  the  battle  field 
was  wet,  very  wet,  with  blood.  She  has  been  husbandless  and 
childless  for  nearly  half  a  century,  and  for  many  years  has 
lived,  as  now,  in  the  solitude  of  the  mountains,  utterly  alone. 
Indeed,  everything  about  the  old  woman  is  peculiar  and  strange. 
In  stature  she  is  quite  small,  and  her  hair  (which  is  white  as 
snow)  is  very  long  ;  when  engaged  in  conversation,  her  coun- 
tenance fires  up  exceedingly,  and  she  accompanies  each  sen- 
tence with  the  most  animated  of  gestures ;  her  voice,  though 
still  strong,  is  altogether  beyond  her  control,  having  an  unna- 
tural tone ;  and  the  wrinkles  running  entirely  over  her  face 
and  neck  are  as  deep  as  we  might  imagine  them  to  be  after 
having  been  furrowed  by  the  tears  of  even  one  heart  for  so 
long  a  time  as  a  century.  She  was  clothed  in  the  simplest 
manner,  having  upon  her  head  a  cap  made  of  common  brown  cot- 
ton, a  frock  of  blue  homespun  cloth,  and  upon  her  feet  nothing 
but  woollen  socks.  During  the  whole  time  that  we  were  in  her 
<5abin  she  was  smoking  some  bitter  weed  in  a  corn-cob  pipe, 
and,  though  haggard  and  worn,  she  had  a  pleasant  smile,  and 
when  either  of  her  guests  happened  to  utter  something  that 
was  novel  to  her  ear,  she  would  exclaim,  *'  Oh  yes,  that  is  won- 
derful !"  Her  only  means  of  subsistence  for  years  past  had 
been  obtained  by  making  hickory  brooms,  but  even  this  busi- 
ness she  had  been  compelled  to  give  up,  for  slio  could  no  more 
climb  the  mountains  to  obtain  the  proper  material ;  and  though 
she  seemed  to  be  perfectly  certain  that  she  would  Jn  provided 
for,  she  expressed  the  greatest  dread  of  the  count^nmshoiise. 
We  inquired  as  to  her  appetite,  and  she  replied,  "  Oh,  I  eats 
very  little ;  I  never  eat  much,  sometimes  nothing  in  a  whole 
day,  and  never  more  than  once  a  day,  and  I  am  well  acquainted 
with  hunger."  As  to  her  sleep  we  also  questioned  her,  and 
she  said,  "  That's  what  troubles  me  most ;  I  cannot  sleep  now, 
I  am  so  old,  and  so  I  lay  on  my  bed  all  night  thinking  of  my 
greaty  good,  and  sweet  Father  in  the  Heavens  J"  We  asked 
her  how  she  managed  to  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  she 
said  she  did  not  know,  only  that  people  who  travelled  on  the 
road  sometimes  stopped  in  to  give  her  a  liitle  coffee  or  flour ; 


m 


THE  HERMIT  WOMAN  OF  THE  AI^EGHANIES. 


493 


field 

3  and 
3  has 
oilone. 
-ange. 
lite  as 
couu- 
h  seu- 
though 
L  unna- 
er  face 
e  after 
for  so 
limplest 
)wn  cot- 
nothing 
e  in  her 
ob  pipe,  , 
lile,  and 
ng  that 
;  is  won- 
»ast  had 
lis  busi- 
no  more 
I  though 
»rovided 
ishouse. 
I,  I  eats 
a  whole 
Iquainted 
Iher,  and 
jeep  now, 
ig  of  my 
c  asked 
and  she 
[d  on  the 
or  flour; 


her  main  staj  being  a  small  garden  of  vegetables,  the  brush 
fence  around  which  had  been  built  by  her  own  hands ;  and  this 
garden  was  remarkably  neat.  As  to  her  sight,  it  was  as  good 
as  ever,  and  she  was  unacquainted  with  the  use  of  spectacles. 
We  asked  her  how  much  money  she  would  want  to  support  her 
a  year,  and  she  replied  that  ten  dollars  would  take  care  of  her 
a  long  time  more  than  a  year.  As  a  matter  of  course,  my 
compauions  and  I  made  up  a  little  purse  for  her  benefit,  and 
when  we  gave  it  to  her  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  embrace  us  in 
spite  of  ourselves.  Indeed,  we  made  her  a  number  of  trifling  pre- 
sents, and  she  expressed  her  gratitude  by  weeping,  and  assuring 
us  that  her  "  Father  in  the  Heaven»,"  would  bless  us  and  make 
us  happy,  wherever  we  might  go.  And  I  can  assure  the  reader 
that  the  tears  shed  by  that  old  woman  of  Jive  score  years  and 
ten  were  not  the  only  ones  that  sprung  into  the  eyes  on  that 
occasion,  albeit  we  were  unused  to  w<!eping. 

But  I  have  not  yet  given  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  home  of 
this  lonely  being ;  in  truth,  it  baffles  c'escrintion.  Her  nearest 
neighbor  is  some  four  miles  off,  and  bar  only  companions  in  her 
solitude,  are  a  little  dog  and  a  cat.  Her  cabin  stands  near  the 
water's  edge,  and  directly  on  the  liill-side  ;  it  is  without  a  win- 
dow, but  light  in  abundance  cotufs  in  from  the  gaping  roof  and 
sides  of  the  black  and  mouldering  )og  habitation;  the  chimney, 
too,  which  is  of  mud  and  sticks,  is  in  a  dilapidated  condition. 
Her  bedstead  is  made  of  small  pine  sticks,  with  the  bark  still 
on,  her  couch  consisting  of  hemlock  boughs  covered  with  straw, 
upon  which  are  two  or  three  wretchedly  worn  bedquiltf.  In 
one  corner  of  the  room  are  two  or  three  shelves,  where  are  dis- 
played her  cooking  and  eating  utensils,  the  original  cost  of 
which  (and  they  were  very  old  and  worn)  could  not  have  been 
more  than  one  dollar.  An  old  stool  answers  the  purpose  of  a 
chair,  and  a  board  nailed  W  the  side  of  the  cabin  is  her  only 
table  ;  hanging  from  the  logs  at  the  side  of  her  bed  are  two  or 
three  old  gowns,  which  help  to  keep  out  the  air  and  the  rain ; 
she  is  also  the  owner  of  a  spinning-wheel ;  and  from  the  crevices 
of  the  logs  around,  above,  and  everywhere,  depend  bunches  of 
herbs  and  faded  flowers  which  she  has  gathered  in  her  rambles : 


! ':  'I 
■  ( n 


I. 

1;  !•- 


j    I 


494 


THE  HERMV  WOMAN  OF  THE  ALLEOHANIES. 


but  there  yras  a  taste  and  neatness  displayed  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  miserable  furniture  of  the  room  frhich  gave  it  a 
really  cheerful  r'.spect.  We  asked  the  old  woman  if  she  never 
apprehended  any  danger  irhile  thus  living  so  utterly  alone, 
and  she  replied,  "  Of  course  not ;  who  would  harm  a  poor  for- 
saken being  like  me  ?  I  ain't  afraid  even  of  the  bears,  for  its 
only  last  fall  that  one  came  down  here,  and  scratched  up  my 
garden,  but  I  drove  him  off  with  a  big  stick."  Up  to  this  point, 
everything  we  saw  and  heard  concerning  this  aged  woman  was 
strange ;  but,  when  we  rose  to  depart,  we  were  still  more  aston- 
ished by  her  wild  movements,  as  she  addressed  us  to  the  follow- 
ing effect :  "  Men,  I  thank  you  for  your  goodness ;  I  cannot 
read,  but  my  Great  Father  has  told  me,  in  my  heart,  all  about 
it.  There  is  a  heaven,  i^en,  and  its  a  very  happy  place ;  and 
there  is  a  hell,  men,  and  its  a  very  dree  iful  place ;  they  both 
will  never  have  an  end.  Now,  men,  good  bye ;  you  have  been 
good  to  the  old  woman,  but  we  must  part ;  good  bye ;  we  shall 
meet  once  more  at  the  judgment,  but  for  only  a  short  time. 
Live,  men,  so  that  you  may  get  to  Heaven !"  And  so  we  left 
this  strange,  strange  being ;  and  I  am  confident,  that  long  after 
her  bones  shall  have  mingled  with  the  dust,  one  trio  of  travel- 
lers, if  still  living,  will  remember  with  wonder  and  pleasure 
their  interview  with  the  Hermit  Woman  of  the  Alleghaniea. 


A'.      1; 


ACROSS    THE    ALLEGHANIES. 


Since  my  last  letter  was  written,  my  companions  and  I  have 
compassed  a  section  of  country  measuring  in  width,  in  a  direct 
line,  only  some  thirty  miles,  but  comprehending  one  of  the  most 
truly  savage  portions  of  the  Alleghany  mountains.  We  as- 
cended Seneca  creek  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  spending  two 
nights  there,  and  enjoying  one  day  of  the  rarest  trout-fishing. 
The  fi'"3t  night  wo  harbored  with  one  William  Adamson,  a  wor- 
thy and  intelligent  Irishman,  who  "keeps  a  store"  for  a  living, 
and  trafficks  to  a  considerable  extent  in  the  fur-trade.  He  and 
his  family  treated  us  with  the  utmost  kindness,  and  when  we 
came  to  depart,  he  positively  refused  to  receive  a  single  penny 
for  his  hospitality.  His  cabin  stands  directly  on  the  marghi  of 
Seneca  creek ;  and  within  a  few  paces  of  his  door  is  a  beautiful 
pool,  where,  just  as  the  day  was  breaking,  I  threw  a  fly  for 
about  ten  minutes,  and  caught  three  fine  trout,  measuring,  nine, 
ten,  and  thirteen  inches ;  and  while  in  the  act  of  landing  the 
last  of  them,  I  unfortunately  disturbed  another  as  he  was  en- 
dervoring  to  secure  a  trout  for  his  own  breakfast.  This  bit  of 
sport,  with  what  I  have  heard  respecting  the  trout  of  Seneca 
creek,  excited  our  party  not  a  little,  and  we  devoted  the  whole 
day  to  the  sport.  The  stream,  which  might  be  termed  a  large 
brook,  runs,  in  its  whole  course,  through  a  ravine  of  the  moun- 
tains, is  full  of  pools,  and,  but  for  the  undergrowth  of  bushes, 
would  be  a  perfect  angling  stream.  The  number  captured  by 
the  party  during  the  day  was  much  greater  than  one  hundred, 
and  very  few  of  the  fish  measured  less  than  nine  inches,  while 
some  of  them  reached  the  length  of  sixteen  inches.    My  com- 


II  ^'l 


496 


ACROSS  THE  ALLEGHANIES. 


f\'  iM 


i-\'' 

^"H-i  i 

panions  used  the  worm  and  I  the  fly,  and  thongh  they  heat  me 
in  numhers,  I  heat  them  in  weight.  The  only  alloy  to  my  en- 
joyment of  this  sport  was  the  utter  destitution  which  I  met 
with  in  a  cabin  midway  up  the  side  of  one  of  the  mountains. 
There  was  hut  one  room  in  the  hovel,  and  the  family,  all  of 
whom  were  cadaverous  in  appearance,  and  wretchedly  clothed, 
consisted  of  a  man  and  woman,  one  overgrown  son,  and  seven 
daughters,  two  of  whom  were  lying  upon  a  bed  of  straw,  upon 
the  floor,  dangerously  ill.  They  were  too  poor  to  employ  a 
doctor,  even  if  one  could  have  been  obtained,  and  the  only  food 
which  they  had  in  store  was  a  peck  of  meal,  and  the  remains 
of  a  ground-hog  (very  good  eating,  by  the  way)  which  the  son 
had  recently  killed  with  a  stone.  The  little  patch  of  clean 
land  near  the  cabin  was  covered  with  a  scanty  growth  of  wheat, 
which  had  been  put  into  the  ground  by  means  of  a  common 
hoe,  that  being  the  only  farming  implement  which  the  family 
possessed.  We  endeavored  to  ascertain  which  of  the  two  po- 
verty-makers, intemperance  or  idleness,  had  brought  this  family 
to  such  a  miserable  condition,  and  were  surprised  to  learn  that, 
instead  of  either,  it  was  consumption.  We  inquired  if  any  of 
the  family  had  died,  and  received  no  reply,  "  Only  three  of  us 
are  ^et  dead,  and  there  they  are  under  that  rail-pen  on  yon  hill 
side ;  Betsey,  Jane,  and  Samuel ;"  I  doubt  not  that  all  the 
travellers  left  that  cabin  "  wiser  and  better  men." 

The  next  night  we  spent  under  the  roof  an  old  man  named 
John  Keller,  whose  family  consisted  of  his  aged  help-mate  and 
one  daughter.  They  are  illiterate  people,  but  industrious  and 
frugal.  As  we  approached  the  cabin  we  saw  the  old  man  and 
the  daughter  hard  at  work  rolling  and  burning  logs  upon  a  nar- 
row dei^-clearing,  and,  on  entering  the  cabin,  (after  having 
obtained  permission  to  remain  there,)  we  found  the  old  woman 
cooking  trout,  bacon,  and  buckwheat  cakes  for  supper.  The 
situation  of  the  cabin  struck  me  as  particularly  romantic,  for 
on  either  side,  within  a  stone's  throw,  arose  two  nearly  perpen- 
dicular walls  of  mountain,  covered  with  mammoth  vegetation ; 
the  base  of  one  of  them  being  washed  by  the  ever-roaring  and 
impatient  waters  of  the  Seneca.    Within  the  dwelling  there 


ACROSS  THE  ALLEOHANIES. 


497 


beat  me 
a  my  en- 
h  I  met 
Duntains. 
ly,  all  of 
'  clothed, 
knd  seven 
aw,  upon 
employ  a 
only  food 
)  remains 
I  the  son 
of  clean 
of  wheat, 
',  common 
he  family 
lO  two  po- 
his  family 
earn  that, 
if  any  of 
iree  of  us 
n  yon  hill 
it  all  the 

an  named 
-mate  and 
trious  and 
man  and 
pon  a  nar- 
er  having 
old  woman 
per.    The 
aantic,  for 
ly  perpen- 
egotation ; 
oaring  and 
ling  there 


were  no  evidences  whatever  of  elegance  or  luxury,  but  every 
thing  was  neat.  During  the  period  intervening  between  supper 
and  bedtime,  our  host  entertained  us  with  his  conversation,  from 
which  we  learned  that  he  had  been  a  famous  hunter  in  his  time, 
but  was  now  chiefly  a  tiller  of  the  soil  and  an  angler.  He  told 
us,  among  other  things,  that  rattlesnakes  were  very  abundant 
in  the  surrounding  country,  and  that  he  was  once  bitten  by  one 
of  these  reptiles  while  out  fishing.  While  passing  over  a  log 
he  stepped  upon  one  m!'  them,  which  immediately  gave  its  death- 
rattle  and  struck  him  upon  the  bhin-bone.  The  fangs  pene- 
trated to  the  bone,  and  the  bite  v.  as  painful.  He  was  greatly 
alarmed,  and,  instead  oi  stoppir;^  to  kill '.'  e  snake,  ho  ran  into 
the  water  and  bathed  the  wound.  Inf '.lamation  took  place 
immediately,  however,  and  he  hasteneil  lome  with  the  utmost 
speed,  and  on  arriving  there  hi  "■  msations  were  •  i.^seof  a  man 
grossly  intoxicated.  All  sor-a  of  applications  were  made  to 
the  wound ;  his  leg  was  swollen  to  an  unnatural  size,  and  be* 
came  black  ;  his  eyes  were  inflamed  and  he  remained  in  a  dan- 
gerous state  for  about  fourteen  days,  when,  to  the  astonishment 
of  all,  he  began  to  feel  better,  and  subsequently  recovereu. 
And  this  incident  tJok  place  ad  late  in  the  year  as  the  first  of 
October.  Our  host  also  informed  us  that  he  was  once  pursuing 
a  deer  over  the  mountains,  with  his  dog,  when  the  deer  made  a 
desperate  leap  from  the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  on  coming  up  to  it 
he  found  that  it  had  jumped  and  killed  itself  within  a  few  yards 
of  his  own  cabin   -oor. 

On  leaving  S(;;<  'f .;  Creek  we  crossed  a  lofty  range  of  moun- 
tains by  a  narrow  bridle-path,  near  the  summit  of  which  we 
found  one  solitary  log-house,  inhabited  by  a  hunter,  before 
which  were  planted  two  immense  posts,  surmounted  with  deer 
and  elk  h.^rns  to  the  number  of  some  thirty  pairs.  These,  with 
the  appearance  of  the  man  and  his  hounds,  strongly  tempted 
us  to  tarry  and  have  a  hunt,  but  we  were  thinking  of  the  Dry 
Fork  of  the  Cheat  river,  famous  for  its  trout.  We  found  this 
to  be  the  richest  trout  stream  we  had  yet  seen,  as  we  caught 
them  by  the  hundred,  and  of  a  size  truly  astonishing ;  some  of 
them  measuring  not  less  than  twenty  inches.  As  before,  I 
32 


I 


\  (i 


498 


ACROSS  THE  ALLEQHANIES. 


fished  with  the  fly,  and  upon  an  average,  took  the  heaviest  fish ; 
out  of  one  small  pool  alone  I  took  four  trout  nearly  a  foot  long. 
But  this  stream  is  not  only  remarkable  for  the  rare  trout-fish- 
ing which  it  afibrds,  and  its  surpassing  wild  and  beautiful 
scenery,  but  also  for  the  fact  that  at  one  point  -near  its  source, 
called  The  Sinks,  it  rushes  into  a  cave  in  the  side  of  a  moun- 
tain, and,  disappearing  for  a  time,  again  appears  to  view,  and 
continues  on  its  course  in  the  sunlight.  The  country  lying  be- 
tween the  Dry  Fork  and  this  place  is  simply  a  waste  of  deso- 
late and  elevated  mountains,  watered  at  equal  distances  by  the 
Laurel,  the  Gode  Fork,  and  the  Shaver's  Fork,  or  Big  Cheat, 
which  are  all  tributaries  of  the  Cheat  river,  itself  a  tributary 
of  the  Monongahela.  The  Cheat  derives  its  name  from  the 
fact  that  its  waters  are  so  clear,  and  at  the  same  time  so  dark, 
as  to  deceive  the  stranger  in  regard  to  its  depths  when  crossing 
its  fording  places.  The  country  throughout  its  whole  course  is 
mountainous,  (this  I  have  been  told,  and  have  seen  it  too  from 
a  dozen  mountain  peaks,)  the  interval  land  along  its  borders 
being  narrow  but  well  cultivated. 

On  my  arrival  at  Beverly,  the  friends  who  accompanied  me 
over  the  mountains  left  me  for  a  difierent  direction  from  the 
one  I  am  to  pursue,  and,  by  way  of  consoling  myself  at  their 
departure,  I  joined  an  old  hunter  at  the  foot  of  the  neighbor- 
ing Cheat  mountains,  and  went  with  him  upon  a  deer  hunt. 
We  encamped  at  a  waterfall  on  the  Big  Cheat,  and  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  a  salt  lick.  Out  of  the  pool  below  the  fall  I  caught 
more  than  trout  enough  for  our  supper,  which  we  cooked  by 
roasting  before  the  fire,  and  salted  with  the  drippings  of  fat 
bacon.  It  was  a  beautiful  night,  and  the  moon  lighted  us  to 
the  lick,  where  in  ambush  we  awaited  the  expected  game.  One, 
two,  and  three  hours  elapsed,  and  nothing  was  heard  in  that 
lonely  ravine  of  the  mountains  but  the  loud  song  of  the 
whippoorwill.  We  talked  to  each  other  in  whispers,  and  the 
whisperings  of  my  companion  made  me  very  sleepy,  although 
his  stories  were  of  the  wilderness,  of  bears,  and  panthers,  and 
other  wild  animals,  and  the  upshot  of  the  whole  matter  was 
that  I  fell  asleep.     Crack  went  his  rifle,  smack  went  my  head 


ACROSS  THE  ALLCaHANIES. 


499 


It  fish; 
;  long, 
it-fish- 
autiful 
source, 

moun- 
>w,  and 
ing  be- 
(f  deso- 
I  by  the 
;  Cheat, 
ributary 
rom  the 
60  dark, 
crossing 
course  is 
too  from 

borders 


against  a  tree,  and  I  was  awakened  from  a  dream  of  home, 
when  I  heard  a  terrible  scampering  of  something  through  the 
woods,  and  saw,  only  a  short  distance  off,  a  buck  writhing  m 
the  agonies  of  death.  A  knife  was  soon  passed  across  his 
throat  by  the  hunter,  and  having  dragged  him  as  best  we  could, 
to  our  encampment,  we  hung  him  up,  and  went  to  rest  upon 
our  bed  of  hemlock  boughs,  with  a  huge  fire  sending  its  sheets 
of  flame  and  smoke  high  among  the  branches  of  the  overhang- 
ing trees.  We  slept  until  daybreak,  made  a  breakfast  upon 
trout  and  venison,  threw  the  mutilated  deer  upon  the  back  of 
a  horse  we  had  brought  for  the  purpose,  and  were  at  home 
again,  or  rather  in  the  hunter's  cabin,  long  before  the  hour  of 
noon. 

With  the  village  of  Beverly  I  am  really  more  than  well 
pleased.  It  is  a  pleasant  place,  and  situated  upon  a  pleasant 
river,  that  of  Tygart  Valley.  This  valley  is  comparatively 
narrow,  and  inhabited  by  a  worthy  and  hard-working  yeoman- 
ry ;  the  soil  is  similar  to  that  of  the  South  Branch  of  the  Po- 
tomac, yielding  the  best  of  corn,  while  that  of  the  entire  moun- 
tain or*  upland  region  is  better  adapted  to  wheat,  oats  and  pota- 
toes. Beverly  is  the  county  seat  of  one  of  the  largest  and 
wildest  counties  in  the  State  of  Virginia ;  with  few  and  liter- 
ally narrow  exceptions,  it  is  a  country  of  rugged,  uncultivated 
mountains,  portions  of  the  arable  lands  having  been  estimated 
to  be  at  least  two  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  ocean, 
while  the  higher  mountains  are  from  three  to  four  thousand  feet 
higher  than  the  same  level.  A  rifle  is  almost  an  indispensable 
article  in  every  dwelling  ;  and  an  idea  of  the  value  of  the  wild 
land,  upon  an  average,  may  be  obtained  by  learning  that  the 
tax  which  I  haSi  to  pay  for  a  friend,  upon  one  tract  of  a  thou- 
sand acres  amounted  to  twelve  and  a  half  cents.  Living  is 
cheap,  and  quite  as  good  as  it  is  cheap — the  best  of  board  being 
obtained  at  ^1,50  per  week.  In  fine,  for  the  angler  and  hunter 
Randolph  county  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  most  interesting  single 
county  in  the  United  States. 


miK 


THE   CHEAT   RIVER   COUNTRY. 


I  AM  writing  this  letter  from  a  capital  tavern,  known  far  and 
wide  over  this  country  as  the  "  Mountain  Retreat,"  kept  by 
Mr.  Edward  Towers,  and  situated  on  a  beautiful  slope  of  culti- 
vated land,  near  the  summit  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains.  But 
before  proceeding  to  speak  of  this  place  and  vicinity  as  I  in- 
tend, I  must  briefly  record  the  substance  of  my  observations 
since  I  left  Beverly.  The  ride  thither  is  some  sixty  miles  in 
length,  and  for  the  most  part  through  a  cheerless  and  ur  inter- 
esting country,  both  as  regards  the  scenery  and  the  fertility  of 
the  soil.  Farms  are  indeed  scattered  here  and  there  afong  the 
road,  but  they  have,  as  it  were,  been  whittled  out  of  the  solid 
forest,  and  are  what  the  people  of  the  West  term  dead  clear- 
ings. The  common  log-house  is  almost  the  only  kind  of  habi- 
tation here  met  with,  and  the  majority  of  these  are  poorly  and 
carelessly  built.  They  usually  contain  but  two  rooms,  one  com- 
prising the  whole  of  the  first  floor,  and  a  garret  to  which  you 
ascend  by  a  common  ladder.  With  regard  to  location,  however, 
these  cabins  are  almost  invariably  upon  agreeable  and  appro- 
priate spots :  sometimes  by  a  spring  in  a  lonely  ravine  of  the 
mountains,  sometimes  by  a  rivulet  on  an  elevated  hill-side,  and 
sometimes  upon  the  extreme  summit  of  a  mountain,  with  a 
grassy  lawn  around,  whence  may  be  seen  a  world  of  rank  and 
rolling  luxuriance,  receding  to  the  sky.  The  people  are  ignor- 
ant, so  far  as  book-learning  is  concerned,  but  they  are  well  sup- 
plied with  common  sense,  and  are  industrious  enough  to  deserve 
better  success  than  the  most  of  them  enjoy.  In  religion  they 
are  usually  Methodists  and  Baptists,  and  quite  as  consistent  iu 


THE  CHEAT  RIVER  COUNTRY. 


601 


their  manner  of  life  as  the  better  informed  in  other  sections  of 
the  country ;  and  I  deem  it  a  singular  fact  that  an  execution 
for  murder  is  said  never  to  have  occurred  in  the  county  of  Ran- 
dolph. The  exports  of  this  region  in  any  branch  of  husbandry, 
I  should  imagine  to  be  extremely  limited ;  the  inhabitants  seem 
to  make  it  a  point  to  live  upon  their  own  resources  as  much  as 
possible.  To  hoard  up  money  is  by  no  means  a  ruling  passion 
with  the  majority;  if  they  can  secure  enough  of  the  solids  and 
really  good  things  of  life,  they  are  contented  and  happy.  To 
the  extent  of  their  means  they  are  hospitable ;  and  I  have  really 
imagined,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  Virginia,  that  for  a  true 
Virginian  to  be  compelled  to  be  otherwise  than  hospitable  would 
render  him  truly  wretched. 

About  midway  between  Beverly  and  this  place,  the  winding 
road  by  which  I  came,  crosses  the  Cheat  river,  and  at  this  point 
I  spent  a  very  agreeable  night  as  the  gueat  of  Mr.  William 
Ewins.  The  contrast  which  his  comfortable  frame  house,  well 
cultivated  farm,  good  collection  of  books,  and  pretty  children, 
sporting  upon  a  velvety  lawn,  presented,  to  what  I  had  recently 
witnessed  among  the  mountains,  was  quite  refreshing.  I  found 
him  a  man  of  superior  intelligence,  and  devoting  himself  to  the 
making  of  surveying  instruments,  in  which  department  of  me- 
chanical labor  he  is  so  much  of  an  adept  as  to  receive,  in  spite 
of  his  out-of-the-way  residence,  a  g  )d  deal  of  patronage  from 
the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  Company.  The  Cheat  river, 
opposite  his  residence,  is  rather  a  large  stream,  and  might,  as 
he  informed  me,  with  little  expense  be  made  navigable  to  this 
point  for  keel  boats.  On  my  way  from  Mr.  Ewins'  residence 
to  this  place,  I  met  with  only  one  incident  worth  recording ; 
my  bridle  path  led  me  for  a  considerable  distance  up  a  little 
stream  of  pure  water,  in  one  of  the  pools  of  which  while  seated 
upon  my  horse,  I  caught  no  less  tlian  twenty-six  trout. 

And  now  for  a  paragraph  or  so  about  the  Retreat  where  I 
am  spending  a  little  leisure  time  most  pleasantly.  It  is,  in  the 
first  place,  situated  on  the  Northwestern  Turnpike,  and  com- 
mands a  most  interesting  view  of  a  wild  mountain  land,  broken 
so  fur  as  the  cj'o  can  discern,  by  only  two  cultivated  farms 


502 


THE  CHEAT  RIVER  COUNTRY. 


which  resemble  garden  flats,  fai  aore  than  they  do  extensive  fields 
where  cattle  might  graze  by  the  thousand.  The  air  is  salu- 
brious to  an  uncommon  degree,  and  the  sunrise  as  well  as  the 
sunset  scenes  which  may  frequently  be  witnessed  are  imposing 
and  beautiful.  Among  the  many  attractions  of  the  place,  or 
accessible  therefrom,  in  the  way  of  natural  scenery,  are  the 
Back  Bone  Mountain,  the  North  Potomac  and  ths  Falls  of  the 
Black  Water.  The  first  is  the  highest  pinnacle  of  this  portion 
of  the  AUeghanies,  and  commands  a  view  not  only  of  a  g''''^at 
world  of  mountains,  fading,  ridge  beyond  ridge,  to  the  western 
sky,  but  also  of  that  extensive  and  unique  glade  country, 
watered  by  the  Youghicgany.  This  mountain,  distant  some 
two  miles,  is  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  oak  and  other 
hard  woods,  and  affords  as  fine  red  deer  and  in  as  great  abun- 
dance as  any  other  part  of  Maryland  ;  in  testimony  of  which 
assertion,  I  may  mention  that  in  passing  down  one  of  its  ravines 
yesterday  I  saw  a  herd  of  some  twenty  of  these  lovely  creatures 
and  it  was  not  long  thereafter  before  my  ears  were  saluted 
by  a  strain  of  rich  and  deep  music  from  a  pack  of  hounds,  the 
baying  melody  echoing  into  the  deepest  solitudes  of  the  old 
hills.  And  to  those  who  can  appreciate  the  ten  thousand 
charms  of  a  wild  and  clear,  and  cold,  and  rapid  stream,  winding 
and  singing  among  the  mountains,  here  is  the  Potomac,  only  half  a 
mile  away.  The  splendid  career  of  this  stream,  through  one  of 
the  richest  coal  mines  of  the  world,  through  the  gorge  of  Harper's 
Ferry,  past  the  metropolis  of  our  land,  and  by  the  sacred  soil 
of  Mount  Vernon,  had  led  me  to  imagine  its  fountain  head  to 
be  something  particularly  interesting,  and  I  have  not  been  dis- 
appointed. Lovely  indeed  are  the  pools  that  here  invite  the 
bather  into  their  amber  bosoms,  and,  as  to  the  trout  which  chey 
harbor,  these  are  almost  as  abundart  as  the  pebbles  of  the 
stream-  With  regard  to  the  Falls  of  the  Black  Water,  a  tri- 
butary of  Cheat  river,  I  Vave  to  state  that  they  are  distant  some 
fifteen  miles,  and  ut  the  end  of  a  particularly  rough  tramp,  but 
will  well  repay  the  visitor  for  any  fatigue  he  may  experience. 
The  stream  is  quite  large,  and  within  the  space  of  one  mile,  q.nd 
in  the  deep  gloom  of  spruce  and  hemlock  forests  sweeping 


THE  CHEAT  RIVER  COUNTRY. 


503 


steeply  down  to  either  bank,  and  dashing  its  foam  against  stu- 
pendous rocks,  all  green  with  mosses,  it  has  a  series  cf  falls  and 
rapids  whose  aggregate  descent  has  been  estimated  at  five  hun- 
dred feet,  while  there  are  a  number  of  perpendicular  pitches 
that  would  measure  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet.  The  waters  of 
the  stream  are  of  a  very  dark  hue,  but  translucent,  extremely 
cold,  and  superabound  in  the  finest  of  trout. 

Another  attraction  of  the  Mountain  Retreat  to  the  scenery- 
loving  tourist,  or  those  who  may  visit  it  for  the  purposes  of 
hunting  and  fishing,  or  to  invigorate  their  heajth  by  its  pore 
air,  is  the  character  of  the  landlord's  table.  This  is  indeed  al! 
that  could  be  desired  by  the  lover  of  variety  or  the  most  fasti- 
dious ;  the  viands  arc  not  only  first  rate,  but  are  placed  upon 
the  table  in  a  manner  which  I  by  no  means  expected  in  so 
isolated  a  spot ;  and,  what  is  more,  the  best  of  wines  are  always 
obtainable. 

But  this  place  'n  also  an  attractive  on<f  to  those  who  have  a 
taste  for  businesfi,  especially  that  kind  resulting  from  the  driv- 
ing of  cattle  from  Ohio  to  the  Eastern  cities.  The  farm  attached 
to  the  Retreat  contains  some  sixteen  hundred  acres,  and, 
(though  rich  in  the  two  minerals  of  iron  and  coal)  affords  every 
facility  for  the  feeding  of  cattle,  and  is,  consequently,  a  resting- 
place  for  the  western  drovers.  At  this  very  moment,  as  I  look 
out  upon  the  surrounding  fields,  I  can  discern,  here  a  herd  of 
two  hundred  fat  cattle,  there  a  flock  of  five  hundred  sheep,  and 
yondar  a  drove  of  four  hundred  hogs,  all  from  the  Ohio  river, 
and  bound  to  the  Washington  and  Baltimore  markets.  The 
drovers  are  a  unique  class  of  men,  dressing  in  home-spun  clothes, 
riding  the  best  of  horses,  and  remarkably  sagacious  in  making 
bargains.  Some  of  them  are  the  owners  of  fine  grazing  farms 
on  the  Ohio  river,  raise  their  own  cattle,  and  drive  them  to 
market ;  while  others  are  merely  speculators  in  live  stock,  buy- 
ing and  selling  as  best  they  may,  and  therefore  spending  the 
most  of  their  time  upon  the  road.  The  distances  which  they 
accomplish  in  a  day  with  fat  cattle  vary  from  ten  to  fifteen 
miles ;  and  I  am  informed  that  it  is  <;[uite  common  for  the  dro- 
vers upon  this  turnpike  to  take  their  living  merchandise  even 


504 


THE  CHEAT  RIVER  COUNTRY. 


as  far  M  the  cities  of  Philaflelphia  and  New  York.  Indeed, 
taking  all  thing:-  into  coiisirier.?.tioi?,  I  deem  my  present  stop- 
ping-place one  of  th"  vr.oat  desirable  in  the  whole  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, for  those  wlio  would  eiicapt  f'r  !  a  the  pent-up  city  during 
the  summer  moiths,  with  a  view  of  f  njtying  the  country  and  giv- 
ing new  life  to  thv^ir  physical  energies. 


BUFFALO    GLADE. 


I  AM  now  writing  from  the  Glade  country  of  Maryland,  which 
I  have  explored  pretty  thoroughly,  and  with  which  I  have  been 
much  pleased.  Its  extent  is  some  twenty  miles  from  north  to 
south,  and  about  five  miles  from  east  to  west,  and  is  watered 
exclusively  by  the  Upper  Youghiogheny  and  its  tributaries.  The 
glades  are  of  -various  sizes,  and  have  impressed  me  with  the 
idea  tLat  they  were  once  a  succession  of  lakes,  the  waters  of 
which,  by  some  caprice  of  nature,  having  been  drawn  off  into 
the  great  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  have  left  their  basins  co- 
vered with  a  carpet  of  luxuriant  grass,  here  and  there  relieved 
by  islands  of  white  oak  trees  and  of  alder  and  cranberry  bushes. 
The  hills  and  mountains  which  surround  them  are  covered  with 
forests  of  oak,  sloping  gently  and  gracefully  to  the  margins  of 
the  glades,  seeming  never  to  trespass  a  single  rood  beyond  the 
limits  allotted  to  them  by  taste ;  but  I  have  observed  that,  when 
descending  the  ravines  which  sometimes  load  into  the  glades, 
the  pathway  lies  through  a  forest  of  exceedingly  dense  and 
lofty  pines,  where  perpetual  gloom  reigns  supreme,  and  the  air 
is  heavy  with  sweet  odors  peculiar  to  these  woods.  Not  a  sin- 
gle glade  have  I  yet  seen  which  is  not  watered  by  a  lovely 
stream,  and,  as  these  abound  in  trout,  they  may  well  bo  deemed 
almost  the  paradise  of  fly-fishing  anglers.  All  the  glades  are 
"  beautiful  exceedingly,"  and  present  the  appearance  of  a  highly 
cultivated  country ;  but  while  some  of  them  are  the  home  of 
solitude,  and  only  inhabited  by  the  feathered  tribes,  the  hawk, 
the  meadow  lark,  and  the  glorious  mocking-bird  being  the 
rulers.     Others  are  enlivened  by  the  habitations  of  mini,  and 


506 


BUFFALO  GLADE. 


often  there  comes  to  the  ear,  borne  sweetly  along  the  peaceful 
air,  the  tinkling  of  sheep-bells  and  the  lowing  of  distant  herds. 
During  all  the  vernal  months  these  pastoral  or  arcadian  vales 
are  uncommonly  green,  and,  when  the  surrounding  hills  are 
glowing  with  the  crimson  and  golden  hues  of  ax  tumn,  their 
emerald  beauty  is  said  to  be  like  the  work  of  enchantment. 
The  grasses. which  they  yield  grow  to  the  height  of  four  and 
five  feet,  and,  when  salted,  yield  a  most  valuable  hay.  As  a 
matter  of  course,  therefore,  the  glade  country  is  emphatically 
a  grazing  country,  and,  judging  from  the  few  experiments  which 
have  been  made,  it  is  certain  that  the  raising  of  cattle  might 
here  be  pursued  (;o  immense  advantage ;  indeed,  as  a  source  of 
wealth,  the  gladtiS  are  rapidly  rising  into  the  first  importance, 
and  upon  some  of  them,  I  am  informed,  two  thousand  cattle 
have  recently  been  herded,  previous  to  being  taken  to  market. 
And  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  when  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio 
Railroad  shall  have  been  completed  across  this  glade  country, 
as  it  will  be  during  the  present  year,  its  agricultural  resources 
will  not  only  be  more  fully  appreciated  and  employed,  but  it 
will  become  a  popular  summer  resort  for  the  inhabitants  of 
Baltimore,  a  number  of  whose  wealthy  citizens  are  already  be- 
ginning to  erect  in  this  region,  villas  and  other  country  resi- 
dences. As  to  the  climate,  it  is  said  to  be  unsurpassed  for  its 
salubrity  and  life-strengthening  qualities. 

As  inseparably  identified  with  the  Glades  of  Maryland,  I 
must  not  forget  tc  pay  a  passing  tribute  to  the  river  Youghio- 
gheny.  It  is  quite  as  picturesque  and  charming  a  stream  as  I 
have  yet  explored,  and  waters  almost  an  unbroken  wilderness. 
It  is  clear  and  rapid,  has  a  number  of  interesting  falls,  and 
contains  trout  in  the  greatest  abundance.  It  derives  its  sin- 
gular name  from  the  exclamation  of  Yough,  which  is  said  to 
have  been  made  by  an  Indian,  who,  during  the  earlier  war,  was 
shot  by  a  white  man  while  swimming  the  river  after  committing 
a  murderous  assault  upon  his  family. 

My  ride  through  the  glades  has  been  attended  with  no  per- 
sonal adventures,  excepting  in  the  way  of  rare  trout  fishing, 
and  these  I  must  reserve  for  the  benefit  especially  of  my 


BUFFALO  GLADE. 


507 


s,  and 


memory,  when  I  shall  have  returned  to  my  city  life.  I  have, 
however,  stumbled  upon  one  or  two  bits  of  personal  history 
which  are  worth  recording. 

The  first  has  reference  to  an  elderly  lady  and  a  widow,  re- 
siding on  Deep  Creek  glade,  in  whose  house  I  was  for  a  short 
time  hospitably  entertained.  In  the  course  of  an  hour's  con- 
versation with  her,' I  ascertained  that  she  was  born  and  mar- 
ried in  the  town  of  Amherst,  Massachusetts.  Her  husband  was 
in  comfortable  circumstances,  but  having,  about  thirty  years 
ago,  entered  into  a  land  speculation,  whereby  he  became  the 
proprietor  of  seven  thousand  acres  on  the  Kanawha  river, 
in  Virginia,  he  emigrated  to  that  country.  After  once  paying 
for  this  land,  the  titles  were  disputed,  and  he  paid  for  it  a 
second  time ;  he  then  resided  upon  a  portion  of  it  for  ten  years, 
when  its  title  was  again  disputed  and  it  was  wrested  from  him. 
He  and  his  helpmate  longed  for  their  home  in  New  England, 
but  had  too  much  pride  to  return ;  and  so  they  settled  in  this 
wild  section  of  the  Alleghany  mountains,  where,  after  the 
genuine  New  England  fashion,  they  surmounted  every  obstacle 
to  success,  and  raised  a  family  of  a  dozen  sons  and  daughters, 
who  are  now  the  comforts  of  the  widow  in  her  old  age.  She 
spoke  to  me  in  the  most  affectionate  terms  of  her  children,  and 
seemed  deeply  thankful  for  the  many  blessings  she  had  enjoyed ; 
but  wJien  she  spoke  of  her  departed  husband,  and  the  home  of 
her  chUdhood,  there  was  a  pathos  in  her  words  which  did  not 
require  the  tears  she  shed  to  make  them  affecting  in  the  ex- 
treme. 

The  other  item  of  personal  history  which  I  would  mention  is 
connected  with  a  venerable  gentleman,  who  might  with  pro- 
priety be  termed  The  Hermit  Philosopher  of  the  Alleghanies. 
His  name  is  John  McHenry,  the  family  to  which  he  belongs 
being  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  respectable  of  Mary-' 
land.  He  commenced  life  under  the  guidance  of  his  uncle 
James  McHenry,  (who  was  secretary  of  war  under  Washing- 
ton,) and  he  entered  upon  the  profession  of  the  law,  wherein 
he  acquitted  himself  with  gk'eat  credit.  Becoming  tired  of 
practice,  he  turned  his  attention  to  reporting,  and  under  his 


508 


BUFFALO  GLADE. 


hand,  assisted  by  Thomas  Harris,  came  into  existence  that  cele- 
brated series  of  Maryland  Law  Reports,  embracing  the  most 
important  land  and  other  cases  that  had  been  decided  in  the 
Provincial  Court  and  Court  of  Appeals,  from  the  year  1700 
down  to  the  American  Revolution  and  subsequently  to  the 
year  1800.  He  is  also  the  author  of  a  valuable  work  on  the 
Ejectment  Law  of  Maryland.  In  1820,  <5r  abovt  that  time, 
ho  became  tired  of  the  world,  as  that  expression  is  commonly 
understood,  or  rather  perhaps,  fell  in  love  with  the  wilderness, 
and  retired  to  the  solitude  of  the  Alleghany  mountains,  where 
he  has  since  resided.  He  is  the  owner  of  an  extensive  domain, 
comprehending  a  number  of  beautiful  glades,  the  whole  of 
which  he  seems  anxious  to  preserve  as  he  received  it  from  the 
hand  of  Nature,  instead  of  mutilating  it  to  an  undue  extent 
with  the  plough.  Being  independent  in  circumstances  and 
having  a  wife  who  sympathizes  with  him  in  his  refined  tastes, 
ho  has  surrounded  himself  with  all  that  can  render  the  life  of 
an  educated  recluse  pleasant  and  profitable ;  a  comfortable 
dwelling,  with  convenient  out-houses,  a  perpetually  replenished 
larder,  with  good  cooks  and  faithful  servants,  and  a  well- 
selected  library. 

In  every  particular,  Mr.  McHenry  is  a  first-rate  specimen 
of  that  rapidly-diminishing  class  of  Americans,  denominated 
"gentlemen  of  the  old  school ;"  and,  on  presenting  to  him  my 
letter  of  introduction,  I  was  quite  fascinated  with  his  elegant 
bearing,  while  my  love  for  the  picturesque  in  costume  was  gra- 
tified by  his  morning-gown  and  the  William  Penn  hat  which 
surmounted  his  snowy  head  of  hair.  I  was  welcomed  with  the 
heartiest  cordiality,  and  am  still  a  guest  under  his  roof,  and  I 
regret  that  the  customs  of  polite  society  will  not  permit  me  to 
speak  of  him  as  I  could  desire.  He  has  been  an  extensive 
traveller  in  Europe  and  the  United  States,  and  alleges  that  he 
has  never  breathed  an  atmosphere  equal  in  healthfulness  to 
that  of  the  Alleghany  glade  country.  In  politics  he  is  a 
genuine  Federalist,  and  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Washington 
and  his  noble  contemporaries.  Though  a  devoted  lover  of  the 
wilderness,  he  was  never  a  follower  of  the  chase,  and  but  little 


BUFFALO  GLADE. 


509 


of  an  angler ;  his  manner  of  life  has  been  strictly  sedentary, 
and,  having  ever  been  animated  by  a  never-satisfied  thirst  for 
knowledge,  he  has  been  and  is  an  extensive  devourer  of  books, 
which  he  has  the  ability  to  master  in  some  half  dozen  lan- 
guages. Though  partial  to  solitude,  he  is  fond  of  company ; 
and  nothing  seems  to  afford  him  more  pleasure  than  the  tender- 
ing of  his  hospitality  to  those  who  journey  in  his  vicinity.  He 
is  quite  satisfied  with  his  lot,  as  well  he  may  be,  and  has  play- 
fully expressed  the  idea  that  he  would  be  perfectly  happy,  had 
he  but  one  neighbor  as  lazy  as  himself,  and  could  he  but 
aiTord  to  subscribe  for  all  the  more  prominent  periodicals  of 
the  world. 


THE    CUMBERLAND    REGION. 


A  RIDG  of  some  twenty  miles  from  the  Buffalo  Glade,  down 
the  Youghiogheny,  brought  me  to  the  National  road,  connecting 
the  Ohio  river  with  the  Potomac,  over  which,  in  a  coach  and 
four,  I  was  brought  to  the  town  of  Cumberland,  or  city  as  it 
should  be  called.  With  the  celebrated  national  road  alluded 
to,  I  was  disappointed ;  for  when  I  remembered  the  immense 
sums  of  money  expended  upon  it  since  the  year  1806,  amount- 
ing to  more  than  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars,  I  expected  to 
ride  over  something  particularly  fine ;  but  I  found  it,  for  the 
most  part,  rougher  than  a  common  road,  and  in  a  dilapidated 
condition.  The  public  means  of  conveyance  upon  it,  however, 
are  numerous  and  comfortable,  and  the  scenery  through  which 
it  runs  is  quite  interesting.  With  that  portion  of  the  scenery, 
and  the  road  lying  between  Frostburg  and  this  town,  I  was 
really  delighted.  The  distatice  is  only  eleven  miles,  and  yet 
the  descent  to  Cumberland  is  some  sixteen  hundred  feet,  and 
this  stage,  when  coming  down,  is  generally  accomplished  in  one 
hour. 

Cumberland,  in  many  particulars,  is  an  attractive  place.  It 
stands  on  the  southern  bank  of  the  Potomac,  and  is  partly 
hemmed  in  with  mountains,  while  the  scenery  lying  to  the 
westward  is  bold  and  imposing ;  that  to  the  eastward  is  simply 
beautiful.  Its  two  principal  hotels  are  spacious  and  comfort- 
able, and  its  churches  commodious  and  ornamental ;  the  most 
pictur^que  being  a  gothic  Episcopal  church,  occupying  the  site 
of  Fort  Cumberland,  of  ante-revolutionary  fame.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  the  town,  who  now  number  upwards  of  six  thousand, 


THE  CUMBERLAND  REGION. 


511 


le,  do^n 
[meeting 
>ach  and 
ity  as  it 
I  alluded 
immense 
amount- 
)ected  to 
,  for  the 
Eipidatcd 
lowever, 
;h  which 
[scenery, 
I  was 
[and  yet 
feet,  and 
3d  in  one 

lace.  It 
partly 
to  the 
Is  simply 
Icomfort- 
the  most 
the  site 
inhabi- 
lousand, 


seem  to  be  a  remarkably  industrious  and  enterprising  class  of 
people,  and  I  can  see  no  reason  why  they  should  not,  in  time, 
build  up  a  splendid  city,  as  a  mart  for  the  mountain  country  of 
Maryland,  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.  Its  means  of  commu- 
nication with  the  world  are  already  manifold,  for  it  has  a  canal 
binding  it  to  the  metropolis  of  the  Union,  as  well  as  to  tide- 
water navigation ;  a  railroad  connecting  it  with  Baltimore,  the 
third  city  in  the  Union ;  and  a  turnpike  leading  to  the  waters 
flowing  into  the  Mississippi ;  besides  a  number  of  plank  and 
other  roads,  making  it  accessible  to  the  rich  agricultural  regions 
of  Pennsylvania,  as  well  as  to  the  celebrated  Springs  of  Bed- 
ford, in  the  same  state ;  besides  which,  the  great  railroad  which 
is  to  connect  it  with  the  Ohio  is  rapidly  advancing. 

But  that  which  makes  Cumberland  a  busy  place  at  the  pre- 
sent time,  and  will  undoubtedly  build  it  up  to  considerable  opu- 
lence, is  the  wealth  of  the  neighboring  country  in  coal.     This 
coal  region  has  been  estimated  to  contain  an  area  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  square  miles,  'mmediately  in  the  heart  of  the 
Alleghany  mountains,  and  ih    quality  of  the  mineral  has  been 
pronounced  superior  in  many  respects  to  that  found  in  any 
other  mines  east  of  the  Alleghany  mountains.     The  term  "  first 
rate"  has  been  applied  to  the  Cumberland  coal  by  all  who  have 
used  it,  especially  in  regard  to  its  evaporative  powers ;  and 
though  called  a  bituminous  coal,  it  is  in  reality  a  dry  and  close- 
burning  coal,  intermediate  between  the  fat  bituminous  of  Pitts- 
burg, and  the  anthracite  coals  of  Eastern  Pennsylvania.     The 
vertical  depth  of  the  Cumberland  coal  basin,  including  the 
strata  peculiar  to  the  coal  formation,  is  about  fifteen  hundred 
feet,  resting  upon  the  mill  stone  grit.    The  number  of  distinct 
veins  in  the  basin,  is  fifteen,  and  the  seams  vary  in  thjckness 
from  five  to  fifty  feet ;  many  of  them  are  exposed  to  view  on 
the  hill-sides,  but  more  particularly  in  the  deep  ravines  through 
which  flow  the  various  streams,  and  are,  therefore,  easy  of 
access  to  the  miners,  who  pursue  their  operations  at  compara- 
tively little  expense.     The  coal  is  brought  to  the  slypping 
depots  in  Cumberland  from  the  principal  mines,  over  two  lines 
of  railroads,  at  an  expense  of  about  fifty  cents  per  ton,  and  it 


512 


THE  CUMBERLAND  REGION. 


is  estimated  that  these  roads  are  capable  of  transporting  one 
and  a  half  millions  of  tons  per  annum.    With  regard  to  the 
richness'of  the  Cumberland  coal  region,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  statistical  gentlemen  have  estimated  that  it  'will  more  than 
supply  the  entire jvorld  for  about  forty  thousand  years,  which  I 
should  imagine  quite  long  enough  for  the  present,  and  one  or 
two  more  generations,  however  "fast"  the  times  may  be.     As 
to  the  capital  now  employed  in  mining  for  coal,  the  most  of  it 
comes  from  tho  capitalists  of  New  York,  Boston  and  Baltimore; 
and  the  principal  companies  now  doing  business  arc  the  "  New 
York   Mining   Company,"    "  Maryland    Mining    Company," 
"  Alleghany  Mining  Company,"  "Washington  Coal  Company," 
"Frostburg  Coal  Company,"  "Mount Savage  Iron  Company," 
"  George's  Creek  Coal  and  Iron  Company,"  "  Borden  Mining 
Company,"  "Parker  Mining  Company,"  "Cumberland  Coal 
and  Iron  Company,  "Wither's  Mining  Company,"  and  "Astor 
Mining  Company."     Speculation  in  coal  lands  has  ever  kept 
pace  with  the  legitimate  business  of  mining,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
impositions  which  have  heretofore  been  practised  by  speculators, 
the  rage  for  this  species  of  business  still  continues,  and  many, 
by  imprudent  hazards,  often  become  victims  to  its  folly. 

Heretofore  the  mineral  treasures  of  Cumberland  have  had 
but  one  outlet  to  market — that  furnished  by  the  Baltimore  and 
Ohio  Railroad  ;  but  since  the  completion  of  the  great  Chesa- 
peake and  Ohio  Canal,  extending  from  Washington  to  Cumber- 
land, with  the  Branch  Canal  to  Alexandria,  a  far  more  exten- 
sive means  of  transportation  has  gone  into  operation.  The 
ontire  length  of  this  canal  is  one  hundred  and  eighty-six  miles, 
and  running  as  it  does,  for  the  most  part,  directly  along  the 
northei^n  bank  of  the  beautiful  Potomac,  it  Avinds  its  way 
through  a  great  variety  of  interesting  scenery.  The  locks  of 
the  canal  number  no  less  than  seventy-five,  and  the  culverts 
over  which  it  passes  one  hundred  and  seventy,  and  through  one 
tunnel  a  third  of  a  mile  long.  Boats  carrying  one  hundred 
tons,  navigate  it  with  great  ease,  and  it  is  supposed  that  boats 
of  one  hundred  and  thirty  tons  will  find  no  difficulty  in  passing 
freely  through  all  the  locks.     The  first  series  of  resolutions 


THE  CtMBEULAND  REGION. 


513 


bve  had 
(re  and 
Chcaa- 
luniber- 
exten- 
The 
miles, 
ing  the 
8  way 
icka  of 
iulverts 
[igh  one 
jundrcd 
It  boats 
lassing 
•lutious 


adopted  in  favor  of  building  this  canal,  were  passed^  by  a  con- 
vention of  delegates,  held  in  Washington  in  1823 — the'Jnember» 
of  which,  numbering  some  two  hundred,  were  from  ViVgini*,. 
Maryland,  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  the  District  of  ColumBit^^ 
The  entire  estimated  cost  to  the  Ohio  river,  was  $32,000,00(1, 
and  the  real  cost  to  Cumberland,  its  present  terminus,  has  been 
about  $16,000,000.  The  ground  was  broken  on  the  4th  of 
Ju]y,  1828,  and  the  first  spade-full  of  earth  was  taken  up  by 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  John  Quincy  Adams,  in 
the  presence  of  his  cabinet,  and  a  large  concourse  of  spectators 
from  the  cities  of  the  District  and  surrounding  country.  The 
speech  made  by  the  President  on  the  occasion,  was  one  of  his 
happiest  efforts,  most  appropriate  and  eloquent,  and  is  only  to 
be  found  reported,  I  believe,  in  the  columns  of  the  National 
Intelligencer.  That  portion  of  the  canal  extending  to  Alex- 
andria was  completed  during  the  year  1844,  and  its  moat  im- 
portant feature,  the  lofty  aqueduct,  spanning  the  Potomac  at 
Georgetown,  is  a  masterly  specimen  of  engineering  ability,  and 
a  model  piece  of  workmanship.  Its  piers,  I  am  informed,  are 
thirty-two  feet  under  water,  and  in  this  respect  it  surpasses  any 
other  work  of  the  kind  in  the  world.  Col.  Turnbuli,  of  the 
Topographical  corps,  was  the  engineer,  who,  under  immense 
difiiculties,  constructed  this  remarkable  aqueduct. 

As  to  the  scenery  of  that  portion  of  the  Potomac  running 
parallel  with  the  great  canal,  I  can  only  say,  ift  a  general  way, 
that  it  compares  favorably  with  that  of  »ny  other  river  in  our 
land  <f  beautiful  rivers.  The  fertile  country  which  it  waters, 
is  thickly  inhabited  by  a  worthy  yeomanry,  bu«  the  imme«Kate 
banks  of  the  river  are  everywhere  as  wild  and  picturesque  as 
in  the  olden  times.  Broad  reaches  of  still  water  nov  remind 
you  of  a  newly- discovered  lake,  and  then  again  you  hear  the  dash- 
ing of  the  waters,  as  they  flow  beneath  impc.uiing  rocky  barriers, 
where  vines,  and  mosses,  and  mineral  drippings  have  produced 
pictures  of  surpassing  beauty  ;  at  one  place  the  stream,  more 
deep  than  usual,  murmurs  sullenly,  as  if  displeased  to  find  a 
dozen  charming  islands  attempting  to  block  its  passage  to  the  sea, 
while  at  another  point,  it  fidgets  itself  into  a  broad  sheet  of 
88 


<A 


514 


THE  CUMBERLAND  REGION. 


foam,  as  it  passes  over  a  shallow  covered  with  boulders  and 
pebbles  innumerable.  Jefferson  and  Volney  have  written  in 
praise  of  that  Spot  where  the  Shenandoah  comes  to  the  help  of 
the  Potomac,  in  forcing  a  channel  through  the  Blue  Ridge 
Mountains,  and  I  need  not  add  mj  mite  of  applause  ;  but  the 
softer  scenery,  associated  with  the  mouths  of  the  Monocacy  and 
Seneca  tributaries,  are  to  me  more  loveable.  For  effects 
''grand,  gloomy  and  peculiar,"  the  Grand  Falls  of  the  Poto- 
mac ought  not  to  remain  unvisited  by  any  true  lover  of  nature  ; 
nor  the  Little  Falls,  which  are  more  humble  in  their  preten- 
sions, but  not  to  be  despised. 

And  now,  with  this  paragraph,  I  bring  the  running  account 
of  my  mountain  tour  from  Winchester  to  Cumberland  to  a  close. 
Unforseen  circumstances  have  compelled  me  to  travel  more 
rapidly  than  I  could  have  desired,  and  I  have  really  not  had 
the  time  to  indite  such  letters  as  I  might  have  done.  I  have 
recorded  enough,  however,  to  convince  lay  readers  that  the  upper 
Potomac  or  River  of  Swans,  as  the  aborigines  called  it,  is  a 
stream  to  be  loved  and  remembered  with  pleasure  and  pride. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


